Never a Bride
by BlueSuedeShoes
Summary: AU—When a newspaper prints a false engagement announcement for Oliver Queen and Chloe Sullivan, and all their friends are thrilled, Chloe and Oliver decide to stage a fake engagement and breakup to prove to their friends how wrong they are for one another
1. Chapter 1

—1—

"Well, ladies, what do you think?" Dinah Lance said, spinning around gracefully so she could be properly admired.

Everyone instantly broke into a fuss of compliments and clamors of well-wishes. Dinah, with her strapless white dress, it's drop-waist skirt magically transforming into a sea of feathers that just dropped past her knees, looked like an angel. Chloe, although not jumping in loudly with the other bridesmaids, admired her quietly, a smile of appreciation gracing her lips. Dinah had let her once short hair grow long, the thick, voluminous sunshine curls now tumbling down her back, an elegant hair peace of tiny seed-pearls and delicate white feathers gracing her tresses and accenting the bird-cage veil she had chosen.

Chloe had always known this day would come. From the moment Arthur Curry first met Dinah, and for the first time in his life, a smooth pick-up-line had not immediately slid off his tongue, Chloe had known he was done for. AC had always been comfortable with women. When he'd met Chloe's cousin, Lois, he'd wasted no time in charming the bikini off her (figuratively speaking, of course). But upon being introduced to Chloe's sorority sister Dinah, AC had just stood there: still, silent, trying to determine if he was imagining a woman this perfect.

Of course, then Dinah had opened her mouth and her natural sarcasm had spewed forth, and the poor man had been practically knocked off his feet. No, he really never stood a chance. But then, neither had she. Dinah was so used to men who tried to outdo her in one way or another, that meeting a man who didn't see her as a nemesis to be competed with had her flustered almost instantly. He was polite and attentive and charming and he wasn't pursuing any of the same goals as her so he actually genuinely meant it when he wished her well.

So when Dinah had gotten out of Julliard, ready to pursue her career in opera, and Arthur had finished grad school with his PhD in Marine Biology, Chloe had had a silent countdown in her mind as to how long it would take AC to propose. It had taken about six months, and she had been correct almost to the minute.

And now here they were, one year later, on a beach in the Bahamas—a destination wedding—in their final minutes with Dinah Lance before she became Dinah Curry.

Chloe was honestly happy for her friends, though she was a little sad that they had reached this point in their lives, a point where friendships must inevitably change, perhaps for the worse, hopefully for the better, but either way: change. Now that her friends had reached a time in their lives when they were going to start getting married, moving away, and having families, Chloe didn't see how anything could ever truly be the same. They _had_ to change. It was natural, as it should be, but she couldn't help feeling a little mournful of the times they were leaving behind.

Dinah caught Chloe's eyes from amidst all the other girls, looking even more like an angel due to the sea of yellow silk she was surrounded by. They shared a silent look of understanding, and Dinah made a show of realizing the time and shooing her bridesmaids away.

"Oh Chloe," she said, as if it were an afterthought. "Not you," she smiled earnestly at her Maid of Honor, clasping her hand impulsively. "Stay with me a little longer?" she asked, not that there had been any doubt but that Chloe would.

When the other girls had gone, Dinah fussed slightly over Chloe's dress. All the bridesmaids were wearing cocktail-length dresses in the same yellow silk, though each varied in style according to the girl's taste (but mostly Dinah's taste in what looked best on them). Chloe's, which had thin straps and a sweet-heart neckline, was accented by an ivory sash, to show that she was "Important," Dinah had explained, whispering in her ear at the fitting so the other girls wouldn't hear.

"You should never wear anything but yellow," Dinah said appreciatively, adjusting the bow of the sash that needed no adjusting. "You look like you're made of nothing but sunshine and buttercups and honey," she determined.

Chloe raised her eyebrow. "Careful telling me that," she warned in a teasing voice. "If that's the case I'll never wear it again. Can you imagine people at work thinking of me as 'sunshine and buttercups and honey?'" she asked. "I'd be a laughing-stock."

Dinah pressed her lips together. "You know what I mean. This color is perfect on you."

"How convenient that it's _your_ favorite color," Chloe sassed, amused. Then she asked her friend seriously, "How are you feeling?"

"Like about twenty hummingbirds are flitting about in my stomach," Dinah sighed, starting to sit down and then remembering her dress and thinking better of it. "It's quite unsettling."

Chloe laughed. "It will all be fine. AC is so perfect for you I'm surprised birds don't break out into a chorus when you're together."

"Is my lipstick all right?" Dinah asked, suddenly diverting the conversation, as if any mention of AC might make her lose her nerve and send her into a panic. She turned to the full length mirror and checked it. Chloe grabbed her hand and pulled it away.

"Don't touch it, it's perfect," she said honestly. She liked the pretty corral pink that Dinah had chosen. It was soft and beach-y and looked perfect against the gentle tan glow of her skin. "You know, it's funny, when I used to picture you getting married, I always pictured dramatic red lipstick. And I never thought you would end up in a dress like this. I thought there would be a big ball gown with so much tulle puffing it out that you'd have to have a double-door entrance to get through to the enormous church." She lightly fingered Dinah's white feather earrings, "But this is all so much more perfect for you."

"Well, I'll admit, I think AC is the only man I would have considered a beach-wedding for. I used to imagine my wedding to be as dramatic as my performances," she said wistfully, "but this—"

"—is just so right," Chloe finished for her with a nod.

"Oh, Chloe, I'm so glad you're here," Dinah exclaimed abruptly, flinging her arms around her friend. "I could never do this without you. I'd _perish_."

Chloe laughed at the melodramatics, but hugged Dinah tightly as well. "You wouldn't. You'd scoff at the idea at nervousness and traipse down the aisle like your own personal stage and everyone would be shocked by your poise. The fact that I'm here just means you don't _have_ to."

Dinah threw her head back and laughed an elegant laugh. "Too true," she said shrewdly. "Your being here means I'm _allowed_ to be nervous because you'll take care of everything. Do you know something? I'm going to miss you when I'm on the honeymoon."

It was Chloe's turn to laugh. "You will not," she countered. "You'll be far too absorbed in treating one another's sunburns to spare a thought for me."

The room erupted momentarily with shrill, girlish giggles. "You're terrible," Dinah gasped, swatting at Chloe, who was clutching her sides at the image she had now built up in her mind. "One day," Dinah threatened, "you're going to meet someone who'll be a match for that mouth."

"Oh God, I hope not," Chloe gasped. "What a sad loss to the world when someone tames the shrew."

Dinah rolled her eyes. "You're hardly a shrew, but speaking of meeting men, have you met Oliver yet?" Dinah asked with practiced carelessness, pretending to adjust her veil.

Chloe had to momentarily bite her tongue, which had been sharpened the day before regarding a certain Mr. Queen, who hadn't found his best friend's wedding rehearsal important enough to attend, even though _he_ was the best man. "No," she said coolly, "I haven't yet. I assume he's here then?"

"Of course he's here," Dinah brushed her friend's judgements aside. "It wasn't Ollie's fault that he had an emergency business problem to attend to. And AC knew he would make his way here today if it killed him. It was never in question."

Chloe begged to differ. Perhaps AC and Dinah had remained calm about their absentee best man, but everyone else in the bridal party had been in an absolute tither. Chloe had been up half the night raging in her mind about what to do as a back-up plan. Clark, she had supposed, would have to be best man, but the fact remained that the balance of the bridal party would be thrown off, and one of the bridesmaids would be left with no one to escort her down the aisle, so Chloe had determined that Bruce Wayne's young friend, Dick Grayson, could escort Courtney instead of Bart. But then Bart would be misplaced. So he would escort Lois instead of Clark. But then, Chloe had realized, Lois would kill Chloe. So Bart would have to escort Diana Prince instead, the one woman he was too afraid of to flirt with. Bruce could escort Lois, Chloe had decided, so Clark could escort Chloe, and Clark would simply have to grit his teeth and pretend not to be jealous and/or intimidated by Bruce Wayne.

All those lost hours of sleep torturing herself with backup plans because the golden-boy Queen didn't have his priorities straight. Who goes to work when he's meant to be at a wedding rehearsal?

"Well I just hope you'll be nice to him," Dinah was saying. "I made him promise that he'd be on his best behavior for you."

Chloe resisted an urge to roll her eyes. It had been evident for some time that Dinah was hoping to fix her best friend up with her husband's best friend. Even if his attendance record hadn't had her fixated against him, though, Chloe wouldn't have been interested. She was the head of a woman's magazine called _Whistle_, which had once had a gossip columnist working for it who loved to dish out the latest scandal, frequently featuring Oliver Queen. Chloe had interned for the magazine in college, worked for them and moved up the ladder during grad school, and just last year, she had replaced the retiring editor and one of the first changes she had made was to drop the gossip column. It lowered the integrity of a magazine that targeted sophisticated women. But she had still worked there long enough to witness the number of times Queen's antics had graced that column.

She didn't dare say any of these things to Dinah and AC, though. They would never hear a word against their allegedly 'loyal' friend, whom they insisted was not as bad as the media made him out to be. Chloe supposed it could be true on some level, but one simply didn't get that kind of attention for such a long period of time if there wasn't some merit to the allegations.

Still, she wouldn't argue with Dinah now, not when she was minutes away from walking down the aisle. "Of course I'll be polite," Chloe said, and Dinah didn't miss that Chloe had exchanged the word "nice" for "polite."

"Mm-hmm," Dinah said with raised eyebrows and her lips pressed into a thin line.

"Keep doing that with your mouth and you'll get premature wrinkles," Chloe warned with dancing eyes.

Dinah just swatted her and asked for her bouquet.

Chloe laid eyes on Oliver Queen for the first time shortly after that. He was instantly recognizable due to his photographs. She tried to tell herself that she was unimpressed, but a small, unforgivable little part of her had to admit that of all the groomsmen, he simply looked _at home_ in what he was wearing. Given the beach setting, the groomsmen were wearing off-white linen shirts and khaki pants. Everyone, even Dinah, was barefoot. Oliver Queen looked as if he had been constructed and designed to live on the beach for the rest of his life, with his golden hair and tan skin and the easy way the linen shirt hung from his form. Bruce nearly matched his ease, but there was something about Bruce that would never really stop saying _business_. Bart looked like a kid and somehow the untucked shirt made him look sloppier than usual. Clark looked positively out of place. Cute, but out of place. Though he pulled off a suit quite well these days, in Chloe's mind he would forever belong to plaid.

And meanwhile, Oliver Queen just…_looked _like the beach_. _The beach embodied. She narrowed her eyes at the thought. It seemed the perfect metaphor for his wayward character.

Of course, he looked that way until Chloe saw Arthur, and she immediately determined that if Oliver Queen was all the waywardness of the beach, then Arthur Curry was all the good things about it. A bad sunburn versus a cool tidepool, she decided loyally.

"Chloe?" Oliver asked just before they left the tent to begin the procession. Chloe nodded civilly. He grinned. "I'm Oliver."

"You don't say?" she responded, but whispering kept the curtness in her voice from being too evident, so she told herself she hadn't yet broken her promise to Dinah to be polite.

He grinned even broader at her response before offering his arm. "Shall we?" She nodded, suddenly forgetting she already despised him as she automatically accepted his arm. Out of nowhere the vague nervousness she developed around crowds seized her, and she gripped his arm perhaps a little too tight. If he noticed, he said, nothing, but continued to keep her steady. Chloe's stomach tightened at the sight of AC, looking so dashing, a light ocean breeze fluttering in his blonde hair, the happiness radiating from him in waves as Oliver escorted Chloe down the aisle.

Before Chloe realized it was happening, tears were trickling silently down her cheeks. Damn this wedding. It had her so emotional she was falling apart. It didn't help that she was incredibly sleep-deprived, she thought, vaguely chalking up another vendetta she had against Oliver for causing her a sleepless night.

But then he surprised her, just before they reached the altar and parted, he tucked a handkerchief in her hand before releasing her. She blinked at him from the other side of the altar and he winked his understanding. But Chloe didn't see it as understanding. She interpreted it as flirtation at an inappropriate moment. But she couldn't ignore his practical timing and lifted the white handkerchief to discreetly blot the tears from her face. She made a mental note to tell everyone that the salty air had caused them to water if they asked or made any suggestions that she had gotten emotional so quickly.

She brought her attention back to Diana and Bruce as they made their way across the sand between the aisles of white chairs. They made a dashing couple, all dark features and elegance, oozing grace and style and good breeding. Suddenly it hit Chloe that in a few short years, she would be the last of her friends to be unmarried. Diana and Bruce would inevitably tie the knot, and Lois and Clark were already engaged, their date set. Even Courtney, the junior bridesmaid, had someone in Bart. In the congregation, Victor and Katherine were sitting together, Katherine holding his hand. And back home Tess and Emil were probably waking up in bed together, and Hal and Carol were at work, bantering and pretending that they weren't a couple even though everyone except Carol knew that Hal had been carrying around a ring for months. Now thoroughly emotional, Chloe didn't allow herself to think of her childhood friend, Lana Lang, who was currently in an extended engagement to Lex Luthor. Chloe had been in denial about that relationship for sometime, and she would hold out hope until the last possible moment that Lana would suddenly gain enlightenment and run far away.

Chloe clutched the handkerchief tightly in her hand, trying not to sob as Lois joined Chloe and Diana and the congregation smiled indulgently at Bart and Courtney, who looked sweet and young and fresh in so many ways, somehow representing young love without realizing it.

And then the violins struck up a different tune, and every head craned a little more, not wanting to miss a single moment of Dinah's feathered glory. She looked incandescent, and when she smiled at AC, Chloe was happy to see that she wasn't the only one who had tears in her eyes.

The ceremony was beautiful and simple, with short, original vows that had Chloe crying again. It seemed quite sudden to her when the couple was announced man and wife, and AC kissed Dinah. Then, in a whirlwind that Chloe didn't quite follow mentally, they were at the reception, watching the couple have their first dance.

The reception was stunning, Chloe noted with a hint of pride, having helped Dinah plan almost every detail of it. It was being held in the grand ballroom of a hotel, two full walls of windows looking out on the beautiful Caribbean. The same yellow of the bridesmaid's dresses could be seen scattered throughout the decorations, and in the napkins of the ivory and gold place-settings. White sand decorated the center of each table, as did a tall glass vase filled with sea shells white feathers. Dinah had defended her beloved feathers even here, pointing out the seagulls were everywhere at beaches, and since the effect had been quite lovely in the end, Chloe had never bothered to argue. Somehow the combination simply epitomized Dinah and AC as a couple.

Chloe laughed with everyone else when Dinah and AC's waltz suddenly turned into The Swim, and the DJ officially introduced the couple to the public.

"God, this was gorgeous, wasn't it?" someone asked next to Chloe, and she looked up to see that her cousin had broken away from Clark's side momentarily.

Chloe nodded her agreement, smiling softly. "I'm going to miss those two while they're honeymooning down here, won't you?" she said.

Lois sighed. "Yeah, our little group won't be quite the same without the loudmouth, will it?" she joked.

Chloe elbowed Lois and laughed. "It's her wedding day. _Try_ to keep the insults to a minimum, will you?"

Lois rolled her eyes but grinned. "Hey, we share a mutual loathing that has somehow developed into a deep bond of friendship over the years. Who am I to fight my inner nature when it demands I make wisecracks about her? She'll do the same at my wedding, I'm sure." Lois scanned the room, sipping from a turquoise drink that was one of the bartender's specials for the event. "So," she said, "I just could not get over what a hottie Queen is, could you?"

Chloe huffed. "Here we go."

"Oh come on, you have to admit he's gorgeous."

"Lois, you know how I feel about it. I don't get why everyone's been so excited for us to meet. I can't stand the man."

Lois narrowed her eyes. "All I said is he's a looker. Even _you_ can't deny that. And I sincerely hope you don't plan to give him the lecture you've been preparing for the last year while we're here. Dinah will never forgive you."

"Relax. I promised Dinah I'd be polite."

Lois raised her eyebrows.

"What?"

"Your definition of polite is not the same as other people's definitions of polite."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Chloe demanded.

"Just that you better be prepared. One day you're going to meet someone who can keep up with you, and God knows what you'll do then."

"I wonder why people keep saying that to me," Chloe muttered, resting her chin on her hand.

Lois didn't answer but raised a speculative eyebrow at the handkerchief in front of Chloe's plate with the faint mascara smudge on it. Before she could comment on it, Clark showed up and dragged Lois away to dance.

But Chloe wasn't left alone for long.

"Drink or dance?" Oliver Queen asked her, arriving at her table.

"Beg pardon?" Chloe looked confused, growing flustered at his unwanted presence. She was _trying_ to mourn the loss of a close friend. Couldn't he see that? Oh _why_ did weddings have to be the beginning of the end?

"Well, I came over here to ask you to dance, but then you looked like you might prefer a drink instead."

Chloe eyed him, trying to determine what his game was. "Which one sent you?" she asked finally.

He looked surprised. "Sorry?"

"Dinah or AC?"

He cottoned on. "Ah. Neither at this particular moment, but I see our friends have been less than subtle with you as well." He shrugged, sitting down next to her without being asked. "Well," he said, leaning back, "can you blame them?"

"Yes, actually," Chloe grumbled, subtly scooting her chair away from him so their legs wouldn't brush against each other.

He laughed at that. "Aw, come on, we're the last of their single friends. They can't help themselves."

"They should mind their own business," Chloe sighed wearily, reaching for the near empty glass of champagne she had and downing the last drops.

Oliver quirked an eyebrow at her. "That's a little harsh."

She realized he was right, though she didn't like to admit it. "I'm sorry. I've had a long night and I'm emotional because of the wedding and frankly, I've spent so many years dodging my friends set-ups that I really can't take it any more. Andrew from accounting was the last straw."

"What did he do?"

"I finally caved in and went out with him. When I ordered my drink and meal at the restaurant, he said, 'You don't want that,' and proceeded to order for me. I left after that."

Oliver whistled. "Wow, what a dick."

"Pre-cisely," Chloe said, emphasizing the first syllable of the word.

There was a pause, and then Oliver pushed the chair back. "Well," he said, standing up, "you'll just have to try harder next time."

"Excuse me?" Chloe looked around at him, shocked. He was now pulling her out of her chair.

"Look," he said cheerfully, "I'm not any happier about it than you are—" He'd spent a good year avoiding attempted setups with Chloe. He'd heard about her reputation at that magazine she ran. She was uptight and frosty and took her work way to seriously. What did he want with someone who didn't know how to have fun? "—but, I promised the bride that I would dance with you. And as it _is_ her wedding, I'm not letting you make me look bad to her."

"Scared of Dinah?" Chloe asked in an amused tone, giving in and allowing herself to be dragged to the dance floor. After all, it _was_ for the bride.

"Aren't you?" Oliver asked with a smirk, glancing over his shoulder at her just before he reached the dance floor and swung her gracefully into his arms.

"Isn't everyone?" Chloe chuckled. Although truthfully, as Dinah's best friend, Chloe was one of the few people who _wasn't_ scared of the bride. AC was just scared enough of her to fall in love with her a little more every time she was in the room. Everyone else lived in constant terror. Or so she frequently teased Dinah.

After a while, Chloe raised her eyebrows, surprised by something.

"Yes?" Oliver questioned, curious.

"You're not bad at this," Chloe said. She had danced with many men for many reasons, and she had to admit, skill-wise, Oliver was up their with Bruce.

"Quite a compliment," Oliver laughed at her surprised tone. Over his shoulder, Chloe suddenly noticed Dinah, who was positively beaming at the pair of them, clearly convinced that this was going much better than it actually was. Well, at least she was happy. Maybe she would leave them both alone now.

"Sorry," Chloe commented absently. "I'm used to dancing with men who don't know how to lead."

"I can tell," Oliver said lightly. "You keep trying to take the lead." Chloe blushed, horrified. "Don't you ever relax?"

"As a matter of fact," Chloe said, "I do. I just don't find your presence particularly soothing." Why was this song so long? Hadn't they been out here for an hour at least?

It did end, eventually, Chloe and Oliver parting with still firmer convictions in their opinions of one another.

Dinah looked ready to pounce on Chloe as soon as she was away from Oliver, but fortunately, AC swept her away at the next moment. Speeches were given, glasses were raised, and the cake was cut. Chloe was chatting with Katherine and Victor when the DJ announced the bouquet toss. Katherine grabbed Chloe, and once again, Chloe found herself being dragged to the dance floor. This time, though, there was a pack of women gathered there. Chloe played along, never intending to actually _try_ to catch the bouquet. But as sometimes happens in life, even the most stubborn intentions are no match for the weirdness of real life.

Dinah glanced over her shoulder and winked at Chloe, obviously hoping her maid of honor would catch the flowers. Then she turned around and sent them flying behind her. The girls squealed, and in front of Chloe, a brunette reached high and just barely touched the bouquet, knocking them to the ground at Chloe's feet. In a moment of what she could only later refer to as sheer stupidity, Chloe bent down and picked up the bouquet, fully intending to hand it to the girl in front of her, who, she felt, had been the first to touch it and therefore was the rightful winner. The next thing she knew, everyone was shouting about how Chloe had caught the bouquet. Lois was hugging her and Dinah was clapping in delight. Chloe stood bewildered, with Lois and Courtney both wrapping their arms around her, and stared at the offending roses in her hands, wondering:

_What in the hell was I thinking?_

Then things got worse. The DJ ordered Dinah and AC to the center of the floor, where AC, encouraged by the heckles and catcalls of his groomsmen, was instructed to remove Dinah's garter. The single men at the wedding were herded to the floor, where AC launched the garter—straight into Oliver's chest, as it were.

And then, owing to a sick wedding tradition that Chloe hadn't known existed, Chloe was escorted to the same chair that Dinah had occupied moments ago. Because, according to the DJ, they needed a "replacement bride." She didn't understand what that meant, until AC and Bruce were shoving Oliver toward her, all of them grinning and nudging each him.

Chloe was about ready to tell Oliver _and_ the DJ where they could shove that garter, when Lois, already anticipating her next move, forced her back down into the chair. Chloe's whole face burned with embarrassment as she was compelled to allow Oliver to slip the garter up her leg, his hands slipping beneath her skirt as the men chanted, "Higher! Higher!"

Oliver glanced at her and winked, taking an unbearably long time about it. Chloe wanted the ground to swallow her up, but could do nothing but hide her blushing face from the camera man, who was loving every minute of it. Irrationally, she blamed Oliver. He _would_ get her caught up in something like this. Because scenes like this followed him everywhere, it seemed. Of course Oliver Queen would be wherever there was innuendo to be found.

The majority of her emotions that day were devoted to Dinah and AC, a mingling of unselfish joy for their happiness with a small, personal sadness for days now gone, when Chloe at last reached her hotel room that evening. And yet, in a small corner of her being, there was just room enough for one other sentiment: absolute loathing for Oliver Queen


	2. Chapter 2

**So sorry for any typos: did not have time to edit, but wanted to go ahead and get the chapter posted. I will try to make corrections later.**

—2—

The next morning, Chloe rolled over luxuriously in her bed. For the first time in months, she was allowed to sleep in.

Actually, that wasn't even completely honest. With her job, it had probably been more than a year since she'd slept later than 9, and it was currently…she rolled over to glance at the clock. 8:30 A.M. Her face fell. Was it seriously not _in_ her body to take a moment for herself? Well, her body was just going to have to deal with it. She was going to place an order for room service, have breakfast in bed, and then roll over and sleep for at least three more hours.

She poked her arm out from under the covers and clumsily reached for the phone, but the phone rang just as she was about to pick it up. Frowning sleepily, she fumbled for it and brought it to her ear. "Meh?" she managed to get out, not fully coherent yet.

"Okay, on a scale of 1 to Suicide Watch, how worried should I be?"

Chloe's frown deepened. "Lois? What're you talking about?" she murmured, wriggling deeper under the comforter and closing her eyes again.

"Oh God. You haven't seen it, yet, have you?"

"Seen what, Lo? Make sense, would you?"

"Chloe, I'm gonna need you to pull out your laptop, and google your name. And try not to cry, okay?"

"Lois, what is this about?" Chloe sighed, unwillingly dragging herself from the bed and over to the desk, stretching the telephone cord as she went.

"Just…do it. Get it over with."

Eyebrow raised in suspicion, Chloe picked up her laptop, momentarily getting tangled in the phone call as she tried to make her way back to bed and pull up the internet at the same time. "Google my name?" she asked, sitting down.

"Uh huh." Lois sounded poised for flight, which made Chloe even more nervous.

"How worried should I be?" she asked, typing 'Chloe Sullivan' into the search engine.

"You know how Dinah decided to save money by hiring a cheaper photographer than she'd originally intended?"

"So she could afford the centerpieces? Yeah," Chloe said, her hand hovering over the mouse in confusion.

"Well, maybe she shouldn't have economized."

"Lo, you're talking in riddles."

"Just hit the search, Chloe. Seriously. You don't want to find out from someone else."

Hoping she wasn't going to find out that they'd hired an ex-convict to photograph the wedding, Chloe hit 'search.' And then, to her horror, she watched as picture after picture filled the computer screen of her in a chair, with Oliver Queen putting the garter on her.

"Oh. My. God."

"I know."

"Oh my God."

"I _know_."

"OH MY GOD!" Chloe shrieked.

"I know," Lois sighed.

"Can we sue? I'm going to sue him! That's—I'll—I'm going to sue Queen while I'm at it. They're both going down. Oh my God, how will I show my face at work?"

"I mean…" Lois searched for a way to calm her down and came up short, "at least it's a flattering photo?"

"Flattering? Lois, I have Oliver Queen's hands _up my skirt!_"

"Well…there's that."

"Yeah," Chloe said manically, her voice two octaves too high.

"But, I mean, you look really fantastic in that dress, and your hair is _awesome_."

"Oh, good," Chloe said sarcastically, her voice still high pitched, "as long as my _hair_ is okay. Oh my God," she dropped her face to her hands. "I'm going to have to do so much damage control."

"You know what? You should have Queen's people take care of it."

"What?"

"Call him up and ask him to do something about it. I mean, when you consider, his people probably have way more experience with this kind of thing than yours do."

"Ohmygod," Chloe groaned into her hands.

"And as a matter of fact, I'm going to go look into that photographer's contract right now. He'll get his, Chloe. I'm sure Dinah stipulated the importance of discretion, given the big names who were going to be at this wedding. We'll get justice, Chlo. I promise. It will all be okay. In the meantime, you just call Queen and hang in there."

"Lo," Chloe whined, "_please_ don't make me call that neanderthal. I'm begging you."

"Really? I thought you two hit it off. You looked awfully cozy last night."

"Ugh, Lois, he's odious."

"Really? What a downer. I have to admit, the two of you make a gorgeous pair. I'm sure it's just hangover and bad media talking. Give the guy a chance. I'm sure he'll be leaping to your rescue to make this whole thing disappear."

Chloe sighed, disgruntled. "Fine."

"Good girl."

"You're not going to call Dinah, are you?"

"And ruin her honeymoon because her photographer went rogue? Absolutely not. I'll handle the whole situation and she'll come home to find out the albums and videos were all on the house. It'll be fine."

"You're right," Chloe said, trying to convince herself it was true. "I'll call Queen and ask him if there's anything he can do."

"And I'll deal with the rat."

"Good." She took a deep breath. "I'll swing by your room in an hour?"

"Sounds good."

Chloe hung up the phone, then sat on her bed in silence for a minute. She dropped her face to the mattress. "I don't wanna," she whined to her pillow. Experiences like this should _not_ be allowed to happen prior to coffee.

Trying to delay the moment as long as possible, she picked up her cell phone from the bedside table to check for messages. It turned out to be a mistake. Her cell phone had exploded with texts and voice mails. How were this many people even awake already? All just to witness her disgrace. She sniffed self-pityingly before reaching for the room phone again.

"_Atlantis Hotel, how may I help you this morning, Miss Sullivan?"_

"Can you—um—" Suddenly Chloe flushed with embarrassment. What if the concierge had seen the pictures? And now Chloe was asking for Oliver's room number. It was too much. She couldn't take any further humiliation, even on this scale. "Um, never mind. I'm sorry to have bothered you."

"_Are you sure, Miss Sullivan?"_

"Oh yes," Chloe said sourly, ashamed of her weakness. She hung up and dialed Lois again.

"_Yo_."

"Lois, can you call the concierge for me and get Queen's room number for me?"

Lois laughed at her. _ "Yeah, sure, cuz."_

Minutes later, Lois had given Chloe the room number, but she hadn't made dialing it feel any more appealing.

"The longer you wait," Chloe told herself firmly, "the longer those pictures are out there unsupervised." She bolstered herself up. "Right," she said through clenched teeth. "Just do it." She punched in the four digits and after several rings, Oliver answered.

"_Jeez, do you know what time it is?"_ he asked.

"Trust me, I do."

There was a pause, and Chloe assumed his brain was matching her voice to her face. Then, _"Sullivan?"_

"Uh huh."

"_Hunh." _ Another pause. _"You know, normally the guy calls, but I'm okay with this, too."_

"Excuse me?"

"_Frankly, I really didn't think you were interested, but given that you couldn't wait—"_

"Please stop wherever you were going with that grotesque thought right now."

"_What?"_

"Queen, I am not 'calling you' because I'm interested—which, by the way, I'm not even remotely interested—I'm calling because I need your help."

"_Seriously? At—"_ he paused, craning around to check his clock, _"9:00 in the morning? What, did you bring someone home last night that you need to get rid of?"_

"I did not!" she replied, shocked and offended.

"_That's good, because I can't imagine why I would be your first call for that. I mean, that would make a pretty sad statement about your friendships—"_

"Could you please shut up for a second?"

"_Probably not, but I'll try_."

"I'm calling because the wedding photographer went rogue and sold pictures from last night. They're plastered all over the internet."

That seemed to catch his attention. _"Do Dinah and AC know?"_

She had to give him credit for thinking of them first. "No. Lois is looking into the photographer, and we're going to try to keep it from the Currys, at least until after the honeymoon. We don't want them to worry about it."

"_So why are you calling me?"_

"Because there are pictures of you."

"_They can't be that bad. I behaved myself last night."_

She rolled her eyes. "It doesn't look like you did."

Suddenly there was a very long pause on the other end. _"Wait a second."_

"What?"

"_It's occurred to me: Why do you care?"_

"What?"

"_Why do you care?"_ he repeated, and Chloe was furious to note the slightest note of glee in his voice.

"I just…" she stammered for a moment.

"_Well, you know,"_ Oliver continued, cutting her off, _"I don't think I'll really bother doing anything."_

"What?" Chloe asked, panicking.

"_I mean, I've been caught up with the media loads of times. It's more trouble than it's worth. Whatever they got this time will blow over eventually like everything else."_

"B-blow over?"

"_Sure, in a few months, maybe a year. Two at the most."_

"WHAT?"

"_Of course,"_ he went on slyly, _"if you had some_ personal_ investment in getting this cleared up…."_

"I beg your pardon?"

"_Admit it. You're in these photos they've got."_

"I was never trying to hide it!"

"_You certainly didn't offer the information up."_

"You didn't give me the chance. You like the sound of your own voice too much."

But there was no answer on the other end.

"What are you doing?"

"_Looking up these photos of yours."_

"Ours," she growled, bracing herself. She waited until she heard him burst out laughing on the other end.

"_Oh wow, those are _gorgeous._ Very flattering of you, I might add. I can't imagine why you're so fussed about them."_

"Queen," Chloe said through gritted teeth, "just please tell me you'll do something to get rid of them. Please."

"_Oh all right then, you spoil sport. But don't think I won't order prints for myself!"_

"Oooh!" Chloe ground out, furiously hanging up on him. She couldn't imagine a worse morning.

Trying not to think any more about those damned photos or Oliver Queen, who was undoubtedly still laughing at her in his room, Chloe gathered up some clothes to put on before making her way to Lois's room. There, she waited several hours while Lois berated various people on the phone, eventually calling her own as well as AC's lawyer.

"Good," she said at last with a weary sigh. "I'm so glad to hear that. And you will please wait to inform the Currys until they've returned from their honeymoon?" She paused, waiting for a clarified response on this matter. Relief washed over her face. "Thank you so much. I know it's atypical procedures, but I really appreciate it, and they will, too."

She hung up and looked over at Chloe, who looked somewhat redeemed now that she had had a second cup of coffee. "Well?" she asked.

"Queen's taking care of it," Chloe said, with no small resentfulness in her voice.

"That's so sweet of him."

"Sweet?" Chloe repeated incredulously.

"Well, he doesn't _have_ to do anything, and it's not like any of it's his fault. It's very nice of him to put it on his dime."

"If you say so," Chloe crossed her arms, looking disgruntled.

Lois just looked at the photos on her computer again. "I mean, you've got to admit: the two of you make a good-looking couple."

"UGH!


	3. Chapter 3

—3—

It was Monday, her first day home from the Bahamas and her first day back to work. Chloe was praying for a miracle.

_Oh God. Oh God, please let this all have blown over by now. Please let no one have seen the pictures. Let it be just a bad dream._

While the weather had been warm and tropical at the Curry's wedding, Star City—although typically blessed with a milder climate—was definitely heading into a chillier autumn than normal. Chloe had donned a jacket and scarf that morning before setting out, and as she entered the _Whistle _building, she had her hands wrapped gratefully around a cup of coffee.

As usual, heads turned as her heels clicked across the lobby, but Chloe couldn't help feeling subconscious suddenly, knowing in her heart of hearts that the reason was different this morning. Had everyone seen her disgrace? They all probably thought she was just another bimbo who couldn't keep her hands off Oliver Queen now. So much for the reputation she had been working tirelessly to maintain since she was eighteen years old and interning in the copy room.

"Miss Sullivan, how are you this morning?" Edward James, her personal assistant said, joining her in her swift pursuit of the elevator, clipboard in hand.

"As well as can be expected, Edward," Chloe said valiantly, as she pretended she didn't notice the at the front desk gaping at her as she walked past. _Doesn't she have phone calls to answer? _Chloe thought crisply. "Messages?" she said aloud to Edward as she pressed the 'up' button on the elevator and paused momentarily before the doors opened for them.

"I have four messages from your mother: two regarding your return date, one to confirm your lunch date on the fifth, and one to discuss…_personal_ matters with you." He shot her a look, and Chloe knew exactly what 'personal matters' he was referring to. "There's a message from _Vogue _about the interview with them. They wanted to know if you were available the 25th but I told them you were booked, so it was moved up to the 20th. They want you to confirm a location. You received an invitation to the Star City Shakespeare Theatre opening of _As You Like It_, guest optional. I also have a calendar reminder for our annual gift to them as well as to the Christopher Reeve Foundation. Also, your stylist wants to schedule a dress fitting with you for the Star Symphony Orchestra gala, which, to remind you, you RSVPd for yourself and no guest. Also, you've been nominated as one of Star City's Top 20 Empowered Women. If you want to accept the nomination, you need to schedule an interview and attend a photo shoot on the 30th."

"Have Veronica call my mother and confirm the lunch date, and tell her we can discuss everything else in person," Chloe instructed. "The 20th with _Vogue _is fine, and tell them it can be held in my apartment. Confirm the invitation to the Shakespeare play, no guest. Go ahead with both annual gifts. Have Louise call the stylist and schedule something this week. Decline the nomination to Top 20. Anything else?"

"Yes, your meeting with Mr. Gould is at 3:00 this afternoon, and the Board of Directors will be meeting on Wednesday of this week."

"Fantastic. Anything on your mind, Edward?" she asked, sensing that he was holding something back. The elevator stopped at the top floor and they got off, taking off at a quick stride down the hallway.

"Are you sure you want to turn down the nomination?"

"It's cheap. They use the name as an excuse to have Star City's Top 20 Most Eligible Bachelorettes."

"True," he said easily, "but it's fabulous publicity for _Whistle_," he told her, as they passed two women sitting at desks and one filing papers outside her office.

"How do you figure?" Chloe asked. Edward held open the glass door for Chloe, who entered first, Edward following closely behind. She sat down at her desk and looked up at him.

"Our target audience would love to be able to see the figurehead of _Whistle_ as someone they can relate to personally."

"I thought that was why I was doing the _Vogue _interview."

"That's part of why you're doing the _Vogue_ interview. The Top 20 nomination makes you look like someone that men are not only intimidated by, but also attracted to. Women like to think that powerful and independent can be sexy, too. Accepting the nomination gives _Whistle_ a little more sex appeal."

"We want sex appeal now?" Chloe sighed dubiously, not really needing an answer. "Fine," she said then, "have Louise schedule the interview and photoshoot as well then."

But Edward didn't leave.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Anything _else_, Edward?"

"Seven different publications have called asking you for confirmation of your relationship with Oliver Queen."

"WHAT?"

He cringed. "I knew it had to be fake. Were they photoshopped?"

"No they weren't photoshopped they were just…circumstantial." Chloe rubbed her forehead. "Seven?" she repeated.

"Today."

"Oh my God."

"What response do you want me to give them."

Chloe explained the story about the garter, and instructed him to have Louise type up a statement.

"Amused, Edward?" she asked grimly, noticing he looked as if he were trying not to laugh.

"Me? I don't find anything amusing ever," he said, eyes twinkling.

She sighed. "Get out of here. Nice tie, by the way."

"Thanks," he said. "My boyfriend gave it to me."

"Mmhmm. How is Darren?"

"Fabulous."

"You got my gift?"

"I did, thank you Miss Sullivan. We had a wonderful time." Chloe had had reservations made for them on their anniversary at a restaurant opening while she was in the Bahamas.

"How many years again?"

"Two now."

She smiled almost imperceptibly. "Congratulations."

"Thank you," he said before heading out the glass doors.

Chloe opened her inbox to start replying to e-mails, but before she could get back to Angela in marketing, Edward had reappeared. "Now what?" she asked, brows raised.

"Veronica is crying."

"What?" Veronica was a new intern, being supervised by Louise.

"Her boyfriend broke up with her this morning."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Tell her to go home until she can pull herself together. Have _Louise_ call my mother instead."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, vanishing again.

Oh brother. There went another perfectly good intern. Veronica had made it almost two months, unlike the last one, Elyse, who had lasted only two weeks. Or, infamously, last year Megan had lasted four hours. What did Louise and Vivian do to them? she wondered, glancing at the two secretaries sitting outside her office.

* * *

><p>The day was long and trying, and, to her growing aggravation, full of Oliver Queen. Everyone wanted to get a statement from her personally on their alleged relationship, of all the stupid things. A few idiotic photos and it was a relationship.<p>

"People assume because it's you that there's a relationship," Edward had explained to her that afternoon, handing over her eighth cup of coffee. "They know you never get up to anything scandalous, so they thing someone has finally tamed the wild beast."

Chloe had been demanding to know why they never assumed Oliver was dating any of the other women he ended up in the tabloids with.

"How long do you think it will be until they actually believe me?" she asked. Nearly everyone she'd condescended to talk to on the subject had clearly believed that she was only selling them a story, and that she and Oliver weren't ready to "go public" yet. Several had had the audacity to hint that whenever she and Oliver _were_ ready, they hoped to get the exclusive announcement.

"Well," Edward had said, "that all depends on two things, really."

"Oh?"

"First, it depends on whether you and Queen can manage to stay away from any cameras for a good month to two months."

"Done."

"Second, it depends on whether or not Queen has the good sense to tell the reporters the same thing we've been telling them, and doesn't try to make it sound like there's anything going on to have a little fun taunting the media."

Chloe had stared at him. "I'm doomed."

"There, there," he'd said, patting her shoulder. "Want to go to a gay bar with me tonight? No one will hit on you."

But, even if she had wanted to, Chloe would not be going to happy hour at the gay bar. Dinah had called her in the middle of the day from the Bahamas, blissfully unaware that her wedding photographer had sold her wedding photos to the media. Instead, she and Arthur had been enjoying their entirely sunburn-free honeymoon.

"So far," Chloe had teased.

"But I need a huge favor. My housekeeper, Esparanza?"

"What about her?"

"Her daughter went into labor this morning, so she had to take off. Would you mind looking after Tango for me?"

Tango was Dinah's beloved pet fife canary, a gift from her parents after she graduated Julliard.

"Of course, Dinah, no problem."

"Oh, thank you thank you thank you. You're an absolute gem. I'll e-mail you instructions. Will you stop by and pick him up after work?"

"Of course. You and AC just have a good time, sweetheart."

"You're an absolute doll. I owe you margaritas when I get back."

"I'll hold you to it."

So, as much as she wanted to go home and pretend that this day had never happened, she was stepping off the train at the other end of town and heading into Dinah's building.

She used her key to unlock the door—she had had a key to Dinah's apartment ever since she moved in—and headed to the living room, where she knew Tango was kept in an antique birdcage that had been a gift from AC last year on Dinah's birthday.

Chloe pulled the cover off the cage and smiled at the beautiful yellow bird with its white wing tips. "Hi, sweetie. How are you doing without mommy here?" she cooed to it, knowing the pet bird liked to be talked to. "Guess what?" she told it, "you get to come home with Auntie Chloe." It twittered back to her, pleased with the chatter.

Chloe sighed. "Talking to a bird. This is going to make my life seem _much_ less pathetic," she told it sarcastically.

"I feel like that might be really difficult to accomplish."

"OH MY GOD!" Chloe shrieked, clutching her chest and whipping around to see Oliver Queen leaning jauntily in the door frame. She threw her shoe at him and he ducked.

"Woah, no need for violence!" he said, raising his hands in alarm.

"Dear _God_, hasn't anyone ever told you not to sneak up on people like that?"

But he was already laughing at her. "When it's that much fun, are you kidding?"

Tango was flapping his wings in distress at the sudden disturbance, so Chloe reached into the cage to pull him out, stroking his head gently, "shhhh," she soothed him until he quieted and chirped pleasantly. Once he did so, she returned to glaring at Oliver, who was examining the height of the heel on her shoe.

"Wow, you're really short, aren't you?" he commented casually, and she rolled her eyes.

"And you're like a bad penny. What are you even doing here?"

"Dinah called and asked me to check that the appliances were all turned off and the doors were all locked. Sounds like her housekeeper had to leave in a hurry."

They stared at each other for a second before they both groaned.

"Seriously?" Chloe sighed, thinking that Dinah was going to owe her a hell of a lot more than _one_ margarita.

"Wow, I'm beginning to see what you mean about them needing to mind their own business," Oliver rolled his eyes at the ceiling.

"Your mommy is a bad lady, isn't she?" Chloe said to the bird, carefully placing him back in the birdcage, shaking her head as she did so. She held out her hand to Oliver then, and he returned her shoe, a smirk on his face.

"So," Oliver said when Chloe had gathered up the bird's belongings, "how have you been holding up against the press?"

She short him a look that said it all.

"Ah," he said, getting the door for her. She wished he wouldn't be polite. It was easier to loathe him when he wasn't a gentleman. "Sorry for that."

She raised her eyebrows at him.

"Well, I mean, I'm not really apologizing for going along with a goofy wedding tradition," he clarified. "Just sorry that your face got plastered all over the internet."

She looked genuinely surprised for a moment, then looked at him slyly before heading for the elevator. "Careful, I might start to think you're not so bad."

He chuckled. "Don't get carried away. I still had copies made for my own personal scrapbook. I'll mail you some if you like."

She sighed.

Outside the building, he looked around for her car. "How did you get here?" he asked.

"Oh, I take the train."

"Really?"

"Uh huh. Sets a good example for my employees."

"Well let me give you a ride. You can't go carrying that birdcage on the train."

Chloe had to admit, she really hadn't thought of that until just now when they'd gotten outside. She glanced at his car and hesitated. "That's all right," she protested. "I'll get a cab."

"Nonsense," he said, taking the birdcage from her hands and setting it in the car without waiting for her permission.

Chloe gave in, not one to argue with him if he was going to be so polite. Suddenly the hair stood up on the back of her neck, and she glanced around her, paranoid. She remembered what Edward had said about her being seen with Oliver. But she didn't see anyone, so she told herself to relax. It was too late now, anyway. It would be completely rude to refuse at this point.


	4. Chapter 4

—4—

"I'm never going to be polite again, Edward!"

"I warned you," Edward sighed, doing his best not to smile at the magazine in front of them. Two days later, Chloe and Oliver were all over the tabloids again, this time in a 6 page spread, detailing their supposed "secret rendezvous" at Dinah Curry's apartment complex. There were pictures of Oliver entering the building, and then, because they'd already been staked out, waiting for Oliver to come out, they'd been perfectly poised to take shots of Chloe entering the building. And of course, worst of all, they'd caught the two of them leaving together.

"I can't believe you bought this thing," Chloe said with disgust, picking up the rag and throwing it at Edward.

He shrugged, amused. "Can I help it if your fictional romance makes for great reading? Listen to this, 'In spite of mutual protests that they are not dating one another, it seems Chloe Sullivan and Oliver Queen can't stay away from each other for very long. We can only imagine what they got up to in the Bahamas, but here in Metropolis, they're enjoying a little bit of the excitement of sneaking around.' God that's good."

"I feel so disgusted with myself right now, and I didn't even do anything."

"Not according to this. Oh look! They reprinted your wedding photos!"

"Can they even do that? I thought the photographer was being sued," Chloe grumbled, snatching her cup of coffee up from her desk.

"Well, you know the internet; once it's out there, it's out there. And tabloids aren't exactly known for their integrity."

"No kidding," she glowered at the magazine, one of many.

"Oh, look! They even added the photograph of you two dancing. That one wasn't as popular originally. Wow, they really make you sounds like such a dream couple. I'm starting to wish you _were_ dating."

"Utter those words again and you're fired," she threatened, narrowing her eyes at him.

He raised his eyebrows, smirking. "All I'm saying is I would not be the only person here checking out his ass when he stopped by for lunch-time quickies."

"OH MY GOD!" Chloe threw her hands up, trying to get the mental image out of her mind. "You're all insane."

Edward sighed. "Just remember, none of this would have happened if you'd taken my advice."

She groaned.

* * *

><p>"I just want to know if you're really dating her!"<p>

"Mia, for the last time, I'm not seeing Chloe Sullivan."

"But that's what you're _supposed_ to say," Mia said. Oliver glared, and she walked over to hold the punching bag for him. He started throwing jabs at it, and she continued her onslaught. "I'm just saying, the articles all say that it's a secret relationship. So how do I know you're not just _saying_ that you're not dating to keep the secret?"

Irritation in his voice, Oliver's reply was broken into fragments each time he threw a punch. "Because I'm _not_—dating her. I—barely—even—know her!" He paused for a second. "And frankly, I'm not even sure I _like_ her. She's kind of—"

"Don't even think about finishing that sentence with anything other than 'awesome.'"

He looked at her. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Um, _no_. Chloe Sullivan is a total inspiration."

"Mia, you know how occasionally I don't understand a thing about you because you're a twenty-year-old female?"

"Yeah."

"This is one of those times."

She rolled her eyes, laughing as he started punching again. "She's only the youngest self-made success ever."

Oliver scoffed. "That can't—possibly—be true."

"Okay, not exactly. But she's still really impressive. And I love her magazine."

"How do you—even find time—to read—all the garbage you do?"

"First, _Whistle_ isn't garbage since she became editor, but yes, all the other stuff I read is garbage. And second, I make time." She grinned.

"Women," Oliver snorted.

"Just admit you love us."

He smirked. "Didn't—think I had to."

This time it was Mia rolling her eyes. "Either way, I really hope you're secretly dating her. She outclasses all your exes by _miles_."

"I'll tell her she's got a fan," he said sarcastically, wiping the sweat from his brow.

* * *

><p>"Mm, Lo, I've missed you." Chloe hugged her cousin. A month had successfully passed since her impromptu meeting with Oliver, and while the media was still constantly trying to catch them "together," she'd managed to avoid him entirely. Things were looking up.<p>

"You're telling me," Lois said hugging her back tightly. One of the best things about Chloe's job was that it constantly required business trips to Metropolis. No, she didn't have to go on all of them, but she enjoyed seizing the excuse to come by and see her family. "Can you believe Kat and Victor are getting married in a month?" Lois asked, hooking arms with Chloe and sweeping her into the apartment.

"I'll tell you what I can't believe: you and Clark getting married next spring."

"Don't remind me!" Lois groaned. "Do you know how hard it is planning a wedding with my maid of honor all the way in California?" she demanded.

Chloe laughed, sitting on the couch while Lois started brewing coffee. "Trust me: half the time I wish I were out here, too."

"You're kidding me, right? You're living in the land of sunshine and surfers and—"

"—breast implants?"

They shared a laugh, but when they quieted, Lois wasn't making eye-contact. "And of course," she said slowly, "California also has…_Oliver Queen_." She continued rummaging unnecessarily for mugs that Chloe _knew_ Lois knew where to find, deliberately not looking directly at her to make her statement seem more casual.

"Lois, _please_," Chloe begged. "I just got away from all the talk about Queen. I don't want to hear his name while I'm here."

"But—"

"_Please_, Lois."

"You just have to tell me how it's going with him!" Lois said as fast as she could before Chloe could stop her.

Chloe stared, confused.

"Oh come _on_," Lois begged, grabbing the mugs to pour the coffee. "I'm your favorite cousin. And I want details!"

"Lo…" Chloe said the name slowly, trying to follow what was happening, "you realize Queen and I aren't actually dating, right?"

Lois rolled her eyes. "Come on, Chloe, I'm not the media—" Chloe raised an eyebrow "—okay, I _am_ the media, but your dating life is strictly off the record, I promise!"

"Lois, I will say this one time and one time only: I'm not seeing Oliver Queen!"

"But you two looked so cozy in those pictures!"

"Lois, you're kidding, right? You were _there_ for the whole wedding-photo debacle!"

"Well, yeah," Lois conceded, "but I was hoping maybe that incident sort of…brought the two of you together, y'know?"

"I _don't_ know. Every photo that's been taken of me and Queen has been strictly circumstantial, okay?"

"Fine," Lois said, clearly pouting. "Don't tell me, then."

"Lois, there's nothing to tell!"

"If you say so," her cousin sighed, handing Chloe her coffee and turning on the TV. Chloe raised an eyebrow at her but said nothing about the obvious skepticism in Lois's voice.

There was a lull while Lois surfed the movies On Demand. Then she tried again.

"All I'm saying is—"

"Don't."

"It's just that—"

"Lois."

"No one would blame you for wanting to keep it all on the DL—"

"Seriously."

"—considering your last relationship."

"You're really still talking?"

"And I want you to know that I think it's great that you're dating!"

"I'm not!"

"Well if you _were_ it'd be great, okay?" Lois said in exasperation. "You deserve a really awesome guy, Chloe, and I've hated watching you isolate yourself these past few years."

"No one is isolating herself," Chloe argued, irked.

"Chloe, you haven't been on an actual date in—"

"Please don't tell me you're keeping track. I really don't want to know."

"Well," Lois said, backing off of the sensitive subject and reverting tactics, "I just think Oliver Queen is much more in your league. You always belonged with a guy who was a little more…" she searched for the right word, "GQ."

Chloe laughed. She could tell that there was no point in trying to bring Lois back to reality, in which she was currently _not_ dating anyone, "GQ" or otherwise. And she had to admit, Oliver Queen did look rather suave in a tux. Maybe she needed to take a serious look at her lack of dating life. After all, she met a _lot_ of men; surely there were a few as dapper as Queen who actually had decent personalities, right?

* * *

><p>Chloe spent the weekend attending to business of two different varieties. She had a few meetings to take care of for <em>Whistle<em>, which mostly concerned viewing a new fashion line and deciding whether or not she wanted _Whistle _to cover it. She liked it, and much to the designer's delight, she'd decided to cover it. They'd sent her home with several goodies as a thank you, so she and Lois were carrying expensive designer bags while they attended to the business of planning Clark and Lois's wedding. They had several months, so things were mostly in the preliminary stages: a few cake tastings, looking at fabric for bridesmaid's dresses, surfing catalogues of table settings, etc.

Chloe had to admit, when her cousin had first met her then-best-friend Clark Kent, she never would have thought the two would end up together. But then, in those days, she never would have guessed that Lois would end up a world-class reporter, and Clark would end up the starring quarterback for the Metropolis Sharks. It was a crazy world. But Clark always had been talented, and Lois always had liked rooting out the truth. Really, she should have seen it all coming. Especially that the pair would end up being the perfect couple. After all, wasn't Lois the one always saying that the more a man and woman hate each other at the beginning of a movie, the more likely it is that they'll fall in love by the end? Their constant bickering had practically pre-destined them.

She knew that for the first time, Clark was beginning to resent his career as a football player these days. As much as he loved the game, he valued his privacy, and it was tough on him that his wedding was being considered such an "event." But Lois was reveling in the spotlight and rising to the challenge elegantly. Everything would be perfect or Lois would simply not get married. Chloe supposed that Lois's take-no-prisoners personality was a good balance for Clark's natural shyness.

And it was good to spend time with the pair of them, but she was admittedly exhausted when she arrived back in Star City the next Monday morning. Meaning the last person she wanted a phone call from when she sat down at her desk was—

"Queen! What do you want?"

There was a sigh on the other end. "A pleasure as always, Miss Sullivan."

"Sorry. Long night. I'm a bit jet-lagged."

"Of course. Listen, I know we don't like each other all that much."

"Only when I'm thinking about you," she joked lightly.

"Uh huh, but I have a little favor to ask of you."

"Really?" Chloe said, leaning forward unconsciously, honestly intrigued.

"Before I explain it, I just want you to know I'm not expecting this to be some sort of return-favor for killing those photos from the wedding. Especially considering I wasn't able to completely get rid of them."

"Okay…" Chloe prompted, not really enjoying the topic at hand.

"I'm just saying you don't need to feel obligated, but I still want to discuss something with you."

"What's that?'

"Well, I have a young friend—"

Her eyebrows went up, trying not to make any assumptions about where this was going.

"—who really admires you. She's had a rough past but I've been trying to help her straighten her life out a bit. What I'm wondering is whether you have any internship programs or part-time jobs that she might be able to fill? And listen, don't stress over this because I didn't tell her I was going to ask you, so no one's hopes and dreams are going to be crushed if you say no."

Chloe sucked in a breath, hesitating. "I don't know, Queen—"

"Would you _please_ call me Oliver? My last name always sounds like an insult coming from you."

"Fine. _Oliver_. I just…I really don't know. Does she have any experience?"

"No, but she's an extremely hard-worker, and I've never been so impressed with a 20 year-old in my life. She's really made a huge turn-around over the last couple of years since I started helping her. She's got major potential, and like I said, you're her hero or something."

"I am?" Chloe raised an eyebrow, surprised.

"Yeah, she says, and I quote, 'Oh my God, Chloe Sullivan is, like, a total inspiration.'"

Chloe laughed at his imitation. "How old is she?"

"Twenty."

"College?"

"Not yet, but we're starting to look into it for her. And getting a decent internship somewhere could _really_ help her with that, you know," he added, starting to get hopeful.

Chloe looked out the one-way glass of her office walls, where Louise and Vivian had lost _yet_ _another_ intern while she was away over the weekend. What did she have to lose? She let out a deep breath. "Okay, look, Queen—"

"Oliver."

"—Oliver—I've got a position she can give a shot, but the thing is, she's got to be really tough to be able to swing it. For some reason the girls in this spot seem to drop like flies."

"Oh she's tough, trust me."

"And I want to interview her before I agree to anything. Just to be sure this isn't going to be a huge mistake, okay?"

"Absolutely. I'm pretty sure she'll be thrilled just to meet you."

"Okay. Now, I need to know: what exactly is this sordid past of hers?"

It was Oliver's turn to hesitate. "You'll definitely interview her?"

"Not if she's a kleptomaniac."

"She's not." There was a long pause. "I just…I try not to advertise it. She's very ashamed and—"

"I'm not going to judge her or tell her that I know anything. I just need to know who I may or may not be hiring."

"She used to be a prostitute."

Chloe leaned back in her seat and whistled. "Wow. And you said she's only twenty?"

"Yeah. She lost her parents young. Went through a rough patch and got in with the wrong people. Ended up in debt to a guy who pimped her out. She got into street fighting to try to make some money, and things just kept going down hill from there."

"Drugs?" Chloe asked, cringing.

"No. She's always steered clear of that stuff.

"Ho-kay," Chloe breathed, leaning her head back and pinching the bridge of her nose. "Dare I ask how you met her?"

"I'd seen her fight, saw he potential. She tried to pick me up, so instead I got her out of debt and started helping her finish her high school degree, etcetera, etcetera."

"How very Richard Geer of you," Chloe said flatly.

"Hey, I didn't sleep with her."

"Thank God."

"I'm just trying to help the kid out, okay. So is any of this going to be a problem?"

"Not as long as it's all in her past. Have her swing by…" she flipped through her calendar, "tomorrow at 9:30 A.M. What's her name?"

"Mia Dearden."

"All right, I'll put her in for an interview, but other than that, I'm not making any promises."

"Thank you, Chloe Sullivan," he said, and she could actually hear the grin in his voice. She caught herself smiling a little bit in response. "I really owe you one, and I doubt you'll regret it. She's a great kid."

Chloe shook her head, wondering what she was thinking. "Yeah, all right. I hope you're right."

"Goodbye, Sullivan."

"Goodbye, Queen."

And she hung up, hoping that that would be the last time she had to think about Oliver Queen for a while. Even in Metropolis, she hadn't fully been able to escape him. Both Lois and Clark were convinced that Chloe really _was _having a secret fling with him, and no amount of denial could convince them otherwise.

She frowned as she wondered what this Mia-person would turn out to be like. Even she couldn't deny it was really…_endearing _that Queen had taken such a personal investment in this girl's well-being. She hoped Mia would actually be hire-able. Maybe a street-fighter prostitute would be able to handle Louise and Vivian.

But, no sooner had she thought how much she would like to not think about Oliver Queen, than she received another phone call.

"I want to hear all about your tete-a-tete with Oliver while I was gone."

"Dinah?" Chloe groaned.

"I'm ba-ack," her friend sang cheerfully. "And infinitely improved, I might add. The honeymoon was fabulous, thanks for asking."

Chloe didn't bother pointing out that she hadn't asked. "I'm glad you're home, Dinah." There was no point. No amount of berating would ever convince Dinah that her scheming, manipulative ways were wrong.

"Can you do lunch? I'm absolutely _dying_ to go to _Ches Benoît's_."

"Dinah, I can't today, what about dinner tomorrow?"

"Only if you promise to come see me after work today. I don't care how late you decide to leave. I want to catch up with you, and I want to see my baby."

Chloe laughed. "If you come to my place, you can pick up Tango for yourself. But I'm going to miss that little bird."

"Isn't he the most delightful company?"

"He's a very charming bird," Chloe agreed, laughter in her voice. But it was true, the bird's presence had brightened up her home over the past month. She was going to be sorry to see it go


	5. Chapter 5

—5—

"How's Mommy's baby?" Dinah exclaimed, bursting into Chloe's apartment not five minutes after Chloe's herself had arrived home.

"Well I'm just fine, thanks for asking," Chloe joked.

Dinah threw a smirk her way, "You're next," she teased, turning her attention back to the bird cage on Chloe's counter, where Tango was twittering away happily. Chloe couldn't tell if the canary actually was happy to see its mother or just excited that there was noise. Probably a bit of both, she decided. Dinah took the bird out of its cage and tenderly stroked its head, and even Chloe had to admit that it seemed particularly pleased about the attention. It nibbled Dinah's finger affectionately in response. "So how have you been, my darling?" Dinah asked as she continued to coddle the bird.

Chloe laughed. "I assume you're talking to _me_ this time?" she mocked. "I've been fine. Or at least, decent. Tango's seemed just fine, although I'm sure you're better company. I lead such a quiet little life," she sighed in a long-suffering voice, marred by the note of laughter in it.

Dinah nodded absently. "They do like noise. That's why he and I fit each other so well. He loves it when I warm up my voice in the mornings." She smiled serenely and settled the bird back on his perch before turning to Chloe and giving her a big hug. "I missed you, too, for the record."

Chloe returned the hug warmly. "Life's been dull without you in it, I can't lie."

"Is that so?" Dinah asked with another smirk, leaning casually against the counter and raising her eyebrows at Chloe.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Chloe asked, honestly confused.

"Well a little bird told me that you had some interesting company while I was away."

Chloe groaned. "Et tu, Dinah?" she asked. "You know how the paparazzi can be. They're making something out of nothing."

"I don't believe it. You two looked very cozy coming out of my apartment."

"Yeah thanks for that by the way," Chloe tossed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Would you please let me be a grown up and set up my own play-dates?" she quirked an accusing eyebrow.

"Oh don't look at me that way, Missy," Dinah retorted, clearly unabashed. "Oliver Queen is a total catch and the only reason you don't like him is because someone suggested him to you, and you're too stubborn to admit it when someone else has a good idea."

"That is _not_ the only reason I don't like him," Chloe rolled her eyes. Then something occurred to her. "Oh, God, does this mean you saw the pictures from your wedding?"

"Of course I did," Dinah sighed.

"I am so sorry about that. Lois and I were absolutely furious with the photographer. We took care of the whole thing."

"Oh I know, darling," Dinah reached out and squeezed Chloe's hand comfortingly I called my lawyer immediately once I found out. I was absolutely livid. But he told me Lois had already spoken to him and that the two of you didn't want me worrying about it on my honeymoon, so I decided not to," she said loftily. "Besides," she added with a twinkle in her eye, "the photographer put those photos to much better use than I ever could have."

"So how _was _the honeymoon?" Chloe asked, deciding to ignore the last remark.

"Oh, Chloe it was _fabulous_. You can't imagine. I could absolutely _live_ on a tropical island for the rest of my life."

"Couldn't we all?" Chloe asked humorously. "And AC?"

"Well he was perfectly in his element. You know how he is at the beach. Absolutely beside himself. And oh my God, the _sex_—"

"Aaaand that's quite enough right there," Chloe said putting her hands up. "I'd like to be able to meet his eye the next time I see him, thanks very much," she warned.

Dinah sighed at Chloe's prudishness. "Fine. All I'm saying is: Chloe, you haven't had sex until you've had honeymoon sex."

"Yep, already more than I needed to know. Thank you very much. Dare I ask whether you actually left your hotel room while you were there?"

Dinah quirked one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows. "Would you?"

Chloe laughed. "I'll drink to that. I've been saving a bottle of red wine for you," she said, moving for her liquor cabinet.

This time Dinah cringed. "Ooh, Chloe I can't."

Chloe tried not to show her disappointment. "Really?"

"I know; I'm so sorry," and she did look it. "But I promised AC I'd only be gone a short while."

"He's had a whole month of you," Chloe whined, pouting childishly.

Dinah heaved a dramatic signed. "I know, but he has to be weened off of me gently." She gave Chloe a puppy-dog look until she couldn't hold it back anymore, and her face slowly spread into a smile, which even Chloe couldn't resist.

"Ugh, your happiness is nausea-inducing. Go, get out of here. Make out with your stupid husband."

"Hey! Only I can call him that," Dinah grinned, giving Chloe another tight hug. "Mmmm…promise me you'll do dinner with us tomorrow night?"

"Us?" Chloe questioned.

"Me."

"Talking about yourself in the royal 'we' now that you're married?" Chloe mocked.

"We've decided to always refer to ourselves this way," Dinah said importantly. "It makes us sound important."

"Or creepy, but you know, same thing."

"Okay," Dinah said, focusing again. "So that's a yes to _Ches Benoît's _tomorrow?"

"Yes. Now let me get you the rest of Tango's things," she said, dashing back to her room where the cage cover and birdseed had been kept.

* * *

><p>Chloe glanced at her clock and realized it was already 9:31, and when she glanced out of her office, sure enough, there was a young girl with brunette hair, looking extremely nervous while Louise and Vivian ignored her. She buzzed Louise and asked her to send Mia in.<p>

In the brief seconds it took Mia to reach Chloe's door, Chloe had already given her a thorough once over. She was dressed nicely—no fishnets in sight, thank God—and her hair was neatly brushed. She was clearly nervous, but it was evident that Louise and Vivian hadn't psyched her out. As a matter of fact, she caught Mia shooting a covert but clearly judgmental glance Louise's way, her eyebrow raising very subtly at the outrageous manicure Louise was sporting, which was clearly making it difficult to type. Mia's fingernails, Chloe noted, were short, but kept. Oliver had mentioned something about being a fighter; perhaps she kept them short for boxing. She entered the room fully, not poking her head around the door like Chloe had half-expected her to, but then she seemed to lose her nerve just slightly, and it took her a moment to find her voice.

"Hi," she said simply.

Chloe smiled warmly and rose from her desk, walking around to shake Mia's hand. Mia shook it firmly, meeting Chloe's eyes, which Chloe approved of. "It's nice to meet, you. Mia, right?"

Mia nodded.

"I'm Chloe, Mia. Why don't you have a seat," she said, returning to her own chair behind her desk and gesturing at the chair waiting for Mia.

"Thanks," Mia said, sitting into the chair. "I mean, thank you," she added, as if she were worried that 'thanks' wasn't polite enough.

"Mmhmm. So I was going over your resumé earlier this morning—" Chloe said, sifting through her papers until she found it, placing it in front of her. "You haven't got a lot of experience, but the score you made on the ACT and SAT were really impressive."

"Thank you," Mia said smiling uncertainly.

"So, can you tell me why you're interested in the internship?"

Mia licked her lips and tried to think of where to start, looking at her hands in her lap for help.

"Mia?"

She looked up.

"I'm not going to bite. Relax. Just, tell me a little about yourself."

Mia laughed nervously. "I'm sorry, I just…there's not a lot to say that's all that great. Um…as you can see I finished high school a little late, but I'm really interested in going to college eventually, when I have enough money saved up or I get enough scholarship."

Chloe nodded.

"And…okay, honestly?" her attitude and posture suddenly changed, as if she'd suddenly decided that she was going to say exactly how she felt about life, the universe, and everything—caution be damned. Chloe raised a brow just slightly. "I would _kill_ to work at a place like this. Because _Whistle_ is a magazine for exactly the kind of woman I want to be. I grew up making some really stupid choices and I never met any women that I considered even remotely decent. Half the time I actually wished I was a boy. But in the last couple of years I've been starting to figure out that being a woman is actually a really powerful thing, and I'm trying to figure out what to do with that power—what kind of woman I want to be. And I can't imagine anything more amazing than getting to work in an environment that's all about that kind of woman: strong, confident, independent, classy. And I _need_ job experience and something that can boost my college applications, and I would do absolutely anything to work in a place like this some day."

She either ran out of words, breath, or nerve after that, and Chloe gave her a moment to collect herself before asking another question. Poker face in tact, she asked simply, "And what do you think you can offer to us?"

"I'm a really hard worker, and I can take criticism. I don't give up on the first try. I'm great with computers, and I'm high-energy. When I decide to do something I don't half-ass it—sorry, I mean, I don't just do it half-way. I believe in doing a thing right. I'm punctual, and I don't mind staying late. And I'm not too proud to go get someone their coffee if that's what I need to be doing."

Chloe hid a laugh, she had a feeling that Vivian and Louise had their interns spend a lot of time in the lines at Starbucks.

She looked Mia over one more time, scanning for any signs that she was going to regret what she was about to say. Finally, she broke out of the business-mode. "Mia, I'm going to be honest with you. You're not what I normally hire for this internship. A lot of girls go after this position, and a lot of them are working on journalism or design degrees in their third and fourth years of college already. They're fashion-savvy and have writing experience and recommendation letters that have, on occasion, really blown me away. And the longest any of them has lasted is a couple of months." She could see the rejection registering in Mia's eyes, so she hastened to continue. "Which is why I want to give you a try. You're fresh, you have attitude, and you didn't let Louise and Vivian scare you while you were sitting out there. And maybe the fact that you're not so caught up in your own ambitions to run the magazine one day will mean that this internship will actually help you accomplish something. I'm going to warn you now: Vivian and Louise are going to run you ragged; they need all the help they can get, but they're also self-devoted bitches. You should let me know if they're really out of line, though. At this point, frankly, I'm just desperate to fill the position, and you need somewhere to help you find yourself. So I guess what I'm saying is that maybe the two of us can help each other out." She looked Mia in the eyes, and extended a hand. "Deal?"

Mia's grin was heart-warming. "Deal. You won't regret it. Thank you so, so much."

"I'll need you to take care of some paperwork, and bring in a copy of your social security card and two proofs of identification. And you'll report to Vivian next Wednesday. She'll show you around and give you the general orientation. Mostly it won't be very glamorous. Coffee-fetching like you said, but also a lot of filing and stamping envelopes, etc. Depending on how things go, I'll eventually try to find some bigger responsibilities for you, and let you help out on projects when I can, so that you have a few decent lines to put on your resumé."

Mia was brimming with gratitude and excitement, and left the office full of smiles. When she was gone, Chloe had to admit that if Oliver hadn't told her about the girl's background, she wouldn't have guessed it. He'd obviously done a real number on her. It was inspiring to see someone so devoted to making a better life for herself. It was exactly the sort of person she liked to imagine _Whistle_ supporting. She hoped Mia was up for the challenge. She twiddled her pen briefly, opening up her e-mail on her computer. Her eyes glazed over momentarily, though, and she didn't take anything in.

Snapping out of it, she buzzed Edward.

"Miss Sullivan?" he asked.

"Edward, remind me to set up a meeting with the new intern a month from now to discuss scholarship options."

"So you hired the kid?" he asked.

"I hired the kid," Chloe grinned.

"Good. I liked her. She had good taste in jeans. And Louise didn't like her, which is definitely a good sign."

Chloe laughed and tapped out of the intercom before switching back over to her e-mail.

* * *

><p>When she reached her home that evening, Chloe was starting to wish she didn't have to go out with Dinah. It seemed like she was constantly on the move these days, and quiet evenings at home were getting few and far between.<p>

Pulling off her heels, she walked into her office and pulled up her master calendar on her computer. Looking at it as a whole, something horrible settled in on her: everything was pink.

Events on her calendar were coordinated by color. All things _Whistle_ were in orange. Meetings and dinners and other outings that were centered around networking were in blue. A few legitimately social outings dotted the calendar in green. Travel dates were in yellow. The rare occasions that she had something family related (Lois excluded) were scattered over the months in red. And as of the beginning of the year, when Dinah had first asked her to be the maid of honor in Dinah's wedding, Chloe had created a new category: pink.

Pink for weddings.

Her entire calendar was a sea of magenta. When had this happened? She'd been aware that all her friends were pairing off. That much had registered, but it wasn't until now, looking at her calendar, that she realized that the number of wedding-related events she had to attend in the next year had multiplied while she wasn't looking. They hadn't just multiplied, in fact, the number was actually triple that of everything else.

"Seriously," she exhaled, talking to no one in particular, "when did this _happen?_"

But she didn't have time to dwell on when tulle and lace had taken over her life. She had to get ready for dinner with Dinah, which was bound to be an event in and of itself. Photographers _loved_ Dinah. No matter how many times they caught her unawares, she had yet to take an unattractive picture for them. Ever since her debut as the title character in _Carmen_, the press had been absolutely in love with her. They'd even dubbed her the "Black Canary," not realizing that underneath the wig of luscious, ink-black curls she wore in the show was a head of perfect blonde hair that could do justice to Marilyn Monroe. Even after that revelation, though, the nickname had stuck and followed her throughout her career. Having recently agreed to play Elvira in an upcoming film version of _Don Giovanni_, she was attracting more attention than usual even though the movie didn't start filming until the next year.

So, knowing that she was most likely going to get caught up in Dinah's limelight, it was with careful precision that she began laying out her wardrobe: a black taffeta skirt and a jade silk blouse, paired with an elegant, tooled belt and gucci shoes.

Chloe remembered how little she had cared for designer brands when she was growing up. Even now, she didn't really consider fashion her _thing_. But working with _Whistle _had made it a part of her life, whether she liked it or not. So she had embraced it. At the end of the day, what girl was really going to argue with Prada bags and Burberry coats? With a little effort in grad school, coupled with her work at _Whistle_, she had developed a distinctive taste in fashion that was now bringing _Whistle_ its own renown in return.

Chloe arrived outside the restaurant at almost the same time as Dinah, who was looking equally elegant in a royal blue cocktail dress. They hugged happily, and sure enough, Chloe caught a few cameras flashing at them. She was smiling warmly until she pulled back and caught the expression on Dinah's face.

"What?" Chloe asked suspiciously. Dinah looked far too pleased with herself about something.

"What 'what?'" Dinah asked, complete innocence filling her face.

"You're an amazing actress, Dinah, but even I can tell when you're up to something. What have you done?"

"_Nothing_—you're so paranoid sometimes. Honestly," Dinah said, ushering Chloe inside. Chloe wasn't fooled remotely. She was about to pursue her suspicions, but Dinah was speaking with the maître d'.

"Reservations under Curry?" she offered, and the gentleman was quick to accommodate her.

"Of course, Madame Curry" he spoke in a thick French accent. "Your table eez ready, and your 'usband and Monsieur Queen are already waiting for you."

"I'm sorry what?" Chloe cut in, her voice notably soured.

"I said ze gentlemen 'ave already arrived."

Chloe simply glared at Dinah, who looked utterly unashamed of herself.

"We're not friends any more," Chloe informed her. The maître d' looked confused, and was hovering near them to escort them to the table.

"Oh don't be ridiculous," Dinah huffed.

"You said 'the two of us.' You said you wanted to catch up with me. Not that you wanted to set me up on a double date with your husband and that–" she was suddenly aware that people were listening to them, so she lowered her voice, "that _playboy_," she said in an angry whisper. "I'm going home, Dinah. I refuse to be manipulated."

Dinah grabbed her arm and pleaded with her. "Don't be like that," she begged. "I just couldn't do without Arthur for the whole evening, and I didn't want you to be the third wheel. Since you and Oliver became so close while I was gone, I figured you wouldn't mind." She gave Chloe her best attempt at an angelic face, her big eyes pleading with Chloe.

Chloe only narrowed her own eyes. "If a single word of that were true, you would have told me that they were coming."

"It was a last minute change, and I thought it would be a fun surprise."

"You did not!" Chloe said, exasperated. "For one thing, Oliver and I did not 'become close' as you so quaintly suggested. I don't even like him. And for another, even if you believed the tripe that's been published lately, then you'd think that he and I were sneaking around, not making public appearances! So there is no excuse that you could possibly come up with that would make any of this okay!" Her voice had gotten louder again, and she stopped to take a deep breath, absolutely furious with Dinah's meddling.

Dinah just gave her an expression of deep concern. "I did it because I love you," she informed Chloe, and just like that, all of Chloe's anger melted. She was still livid at being set up, but she just couldn't hold onto it to do anything about it.

Seeing that Dinah seemed to have won, the maître d' cleared his throat awkwardly. "Mademoiselle Sullivan? Madame Curry? If you are…ready?" he suggested tentatively.

Chloe jumped at the reminder that he was right there, and Dinah smiled graciously. "We're ready," she said charmingly, and the man looked like he'd practically fallen in love with her on the spot.

Chloe rolled her eyes and followed sulkily.

They were led back to a private round booth in the back of the restaurant where AC was looking subdued and Oliver had a decidedly dark look on his face. Obviously he was as unamused about this affair as Chloe was.

Dinah sat down next to AC and kissed him cheerfully, leaving Chloe to sit beside Oliver. "So," she said, snatching her water and sending a deprecating look in the direction of the Curries, "I take it you weren't brought here of your own will either." She swallowed the water and turned to raise an eyebrow at Oliver.

"Nope," Oliver said, dragging out the word and popping the 'p' at the end, sending AC a look of pure disappointment.

"What'd they tell you?"

"That we were going to a bar for beers."

"Ouch."

"Yep. You?"

"This restaurant. For girls' night."

"My sympathies."

Dinah rolled her eyes. "Oh stop being so dramatic. So I was a little mischievous. Can I help it if I wanted to spend time with all of my favorite people at the same time?"

"Yes," Oliver and Chloe responded simultaneously. AC just looked guiltily at his napkin.

"Good evening, madames et monsiers," a waiter arrived in time to save Dinah and take their drink orders. He looked to Dinah first. "A Sauvignon Blanc, if you don't mind," she said pleasantly, after giving the wine list a brief perusal. The waiter turned to Chloe, who was looking grim.

"Scotch on the rocks," she deadpanned. Oliver, who was staring at the ceiling for deliverance, held up his hand to signal the waiter to make it two.

The waiter finished with AC's drink and promised to return quickly. Dinah, who was still—to Chloe's amazement—looking delighted with everything—turned to Chloe. "So how was work, darling?"

Chloe glared at her and blatantly turned to Oliver, deciding that she was not talking to either of the Curries that evening. They could both stuff it for all she was concerned. "I interviewed Mia this morning."

He smiled at the subject. "I heard. She told me that you hired her. I really owe you one."

"Who's Mia?" Dinah asked curiously. "What are you talking about?"

Chloe ignored her. "She seems like a good kid, and I was desperate to fill that internship. Thanks for sending her my way."

Oliver nodded. "No problem. So how have things been going for you otherwise?"

"Oh you know, just trying to keep my head above water." He looked confused so she explained. "It's a busy season for the magazine, and my cousin Lois is getting married in the spring, so I have a lot going on helping her plan her wedding."

"Yeah, I've met Lois. I'm friends with Kent, met him a couple of years back when I was in Metropolis. Nice guy, but a little uptight. Lois seems like a handful."

Normally Chloe got offended when other people took shots at her cousin, but she could tell by Queen's voice that he didn't mean it as an insult. It was obvious that he had liked both Lois and Clark. "She is," Chloe agreed, accepting her wine from the waiter, who had just returned and offered to take orders for food. Dinah and AC ordered, but when the waiter turned to Chloe and Oliver, they both exchanged looks.

"You wanna get out of here?" he offered. Dinah started to object, but Chloe was already accepting.

"Oh relax," Chloe said to Dinah as she rose from the table, to the waiter's confusion. "You brought this on yourself, and we both know that I won't stay angry with you longer than two days."

"AC, I'll see you later in the week, I'm sure," Oliver nodded to his friend.

They had just reached the door when something occurred to Chloe. "Oh no," she groaned.

"Problem?" Oliver asked.

"I've just remembered: the photographers."

"Ah yes, our secret affair will be ousted, won't it?" he joked sarcastically.

She glared. "Take this seriously, damn it," she said in a mock-dramatic voice. "I have a reputation to keep up."

"So do I," he said suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

She elbowed him jokingly. "God, you're such a pig."

"Oh screw them," he said, helping her into her coat. "You get used to it after a while. Either you let it get to you, or you have a good laugh at the fact that half the city thinks you're dating someone you barely know."

She sighed. "I guess you're right. It would be easier if my friends and family didn't buy into it, though."

He chuckled. "You're telling me. Mia's convinced that everything I say is in code."

"Oh well," she said. "Here we go?"

He smirked and held open the door for her. Sure enough cameras began flashing seconds after he followed her out the door.

"Miss Sullivan! Mr. Queen, this way!" they scrambled to get Chloe and Oliver's attention, one of the cameramen getting right in Chloe's face.

Oliver stepped between her and the invasive photographer and warned him to back off before protectively ushering Chloe toward a cab and climbing in after her.

Chloe was already giving the cabby her home address before Oliver interrupted her. "Oh come on, you can't go home this early on a Friday."

She raised an eyebrow at him dubiously.

"And you have to be hungry. We'll grab a drink and some food somewhere."

"And provide more fodder for the media," Chloe reminded.

He shrugged. "Isn't that half the fun?" he pointed out.

"I don't know…."

"Seriously, when was the last time you had a night out?" he asked.

She frowned at him. "I get out," she argued.

"Hanging out with your married friends doesn't count."

"They're not all married."

"Just engaged," he joked.

She huffed. "Fine. Only because I really am hungry and I can't take another night of ordering pizza. What did you have in mind?"

"I was invited to a club opening tonight, I think," he said, pulling out his phone to check.

Chloe nodded. "The Coup D'état?" She'd been invited to the same one, but had eagerly seized dinner with Dinah as an excuse not to go.

At the uncertain expression on her face, Oliver nudged her. "Come on. They have food, drinks, and loud music so we don't have to listen to each other talk."

She laughed at that. "Sounds perfect," she said. "But just for the record, we still don't like each other. I'll die before I let Dinah think her plan worked."

"Agreed," he said, chuckling. He gave the driver the new address off of his phone, and the cab changed directions.


	6. Chapter 6

—6—

_3 Weeks Later_

Chloe woke abruptly to a phone ringing. It was a Saturday morning and she couldn't imagine who would be calling her house phone on a Saturday morning. If it were her cell, she might have guessed Lois or Dinah. Or maybe either Tess or Carol had finally gotten engaged last night, and was calling to tell her.

As it was, though, her cell was not the thing ringing, and she had to flail her arm a little more desperately than usual to find the receiver. After a moment she successfully snatched it from its hook and held it to her ear, her face half in the pillow.

"'lo?" she mumbled. What time was it?

"Have you seen it yet?"

She frowned. She knew that voice. Why did it upset her?

"Obviously not or you'd already be yelling at someone right now."

"Wh'isthis?" she slurred. "Whutimezit?"

"This is Oliver Queen; it is 7:30 in the morning. And I strongly suggest you go read your paper before you find out some other way."

She shook herself, trying to focus her thoughts. 7:30 on a Saturday? So that meant—she counted—four hours of sleep total. "Why are you calling me?" she groaned.

"I told you. Go get your morning paper. _Now_."

Grumbling to herself, she slid out of bed and dragged herself wearily across her apartment and opened up the front door where her morning paper was waiting, looking as innocent as any newspaper ever looked, carefully folded with the front headline on display. She stooped over and picked it up, then kicked her door shut and headed into the kitchen to flip on the coffee maker. While elixir brewed, she unfolded the paper and read.

"Luthor Announces Run for Presidency?" she questioned. "I mean, as disturbing as that is, we're just going to have to hope that Senator Ross beats him out in the end." But that didn't explain—

"That's not why I'm calling. Flip to the society pages. You can't miss it."

She did as instructed and her eyes widened in shock. "No," she said.

"Oh yes," he said grimly.

"But…_no_."

"I'm afraid so."

There, covering half the page, was a photograph of her and Oliver Queen, taken a week ago when they happened to be standing near one another at an event hosted by the Star City Shakespeare Theatre, Oliver in a tux, and Chloe wearing a yellow silk couture number. Above their photograph ran the headline:

_GOLDEN COUPLE GETS ENGAGED_

"This can't be happening.

"And yet it is."

"But how? Why would they—"

"Read the article."

Closing her gaping mouth, Chloe read.

_GOLDEN COUPLE GETS ENGAGED  
><em>by Linda Lake

_A few weeks ago, it seemed that there was trouble in paradise for Star City's favorite couple. After a strange evening out, in which Chloe Sullivan and Oliver Queen were spotted abandoning their newlywed friends Dinah and Arthur Curry at _Ches Benoît's_, but then later appeared at an infamous new nightclub, they were reported to seem at odds with one another. At the club outing, Chloe was spotted accepting a drink from a man at the bar while Oliver flirted heavily with other women. The couple still ended the night together, sharing a drink and a dance before they left, but it seemed that perhaps this perfect couple had somehow hit a breaking point. Suspicions appeared to be confirmed two weeks ago at a gala in Gotham hosted by mutual friend of the couple, Bruce Wayne. Oliver attended with the Russian ballet star Vera Dimitriv, and Chloe, to everyone's surprise, was on the arm of Gotham's White Knight, Harvey Dent. Perhaps it was an attempt to make one another jealous. We may never know, but if that is the case, it certainly worked, as this reporter has it from a reliable source that the couple are now engaged, finally admitting to the public that their relationship is real and stronger than ever._

At first, Chloe could only stammer. Then, "A 'reliable source'? What reliable source? This is pure fiction! This is—it's—I don't even—THERE AREN'T WORDS!"

"I know."

"How could they possibly come to the conclusion that we're engaged? It's preposterous. It's almost offensive."

"Yeah, I couldn't understand it either. So I went online to try to figure out where they would get the idea."

"And?"

"It may be partially my fault, but you've got some explaining to do, too."

"Enlighten me."

"They've got a shot of me leaving Tiffany's & Co. with a small blue box."

"Well what were you getting at Tiffany's?" Chloe demanded.

"A pair of earrings for Mia. It was a surprise for her first day working with you."

"Of course it was," Chloe groaned. "But it's not like they saw you propose or something. And anyway, it's only a pair of earrings. How could they not follow up on that?"

"Well the trouble is that when I went into the jewelry store and said I wanted something for a special woman, the jeweler misunderstood and brought me to the case of engagement rings first. He'd already pulled something out before I could explain that wasn't what I wanted."

"So…" Chloe cringed.

"They've got an actual photograph of me looking at a ring."

"How did a photographer get that shot?"

"It wasn't a photographer. Just a crappy cell-phone photo; I guess someone in the store must have recognized me and taken it. They probably wouldn't have even used it if it weren't for this story."

"Great. So how did they come to the conclusion that I was the lucky girl?" Chloe asked sourly.

"Well that's where it gets to be a real stretch. They've got a picture of you and I exiting the same hallway at that party in Gotham."

"Right…we ran into each other coming out of the bathrooms."

"Yeah, but here's where you can explain something to me: They have a photo of you arriving at the party with no necklace on. And then one from after our supposed bathroom-proposal where you're wearing a chain that disappears down your neckline."

Chloe frowned and then caught on. "Ugh," she groaned. "Unbelievable. I was going to wear a necklace that night, but it kept snagging on my wrap. So I took it off and put it in my purse on my way there so I didn't ruin the silk. I excused myself to the ladies' room to freshen up when I got there and that was when I put the necklace on. It must have slipped under my neckline without my noticing. So they think—"

"That you were hiding your new rock down your dress? Yep."

"But why would I do that?" Chloe asked, unable to keep up with this complete Fairy Tale that someone had fabricated.

"Well, speculation suggests that just like we were trying to keep our dating a secret, we wanted to keep the engagement a secret. But the general consensus is that you wanted to wait for the right time to announce it in private, rather than let people find out at the gala."

"And what about the fact that I left that event with Harvey?" she asked, her voice an octave higher as she raked her hand through her hair.

"Well, you read the article. They thought we had an argument at the Coup D'état, and that you were just trying to make me jealous. There's a whole web story about how you were angry that I wanted to keep our love a secret, and then just to prove a point, you went to the event with another date, leaving poor, lonely me with the Russian 'bitch' as she's being called—hardly fair, by the way. Vera's a lovely woman—"

"I'll bet she is," Chloe grumbled.

"—but then seeing you with Dent, I came to my senses and finally told you my real feelings and showed you the ring I had now been carrying around for weeks. But being the polite, classy woman that you are, you thought it only appropriate to leave with the man you came with."

"That is—"

"The most elaborate hoax ever? Yes, yes it is."

"I can't believe this."

"I know. I mean, there's this huge debate amongst all our twelve-year-old fan girls about whether or not I deserve you after going out with Vera. They think you should marry Harvey, who's obviously the worthier candidate."

"Oh and let me guess," Chloe said bitingly, "there's a whole army of girls who think I'm not good enough for you and obviously if I was willing to sink so low as to go out with another man to make you jealous, then you deserve someone more gracious."

"'Not such a whore' I believe was the phrase most commonly used, but yes, that's the gist of it," he joked darkly.

"This is just unbelievable. I—God, how have you had time to research all this so thoroughly? It's not even 8 A.M." she pointed out.

"I usually get up at 6:30 to start my workout routine," he said, explaining. "Fortunately for you I read the paper first this morning. I normally don't even see the society pages, but I dropped the whole paper by accident and there we were on page 6."

"I just can't get over this. Whatever happened to integrity in journalism?" she wanted to know, growing more furious because of the fact that her coffee maker seemed to be taking forever. "We're going to have to start making calls to clear this up _immediately_, before it can get any more out of hand."

To her surprise, there was a hesitation from Oliver's end. "If…you want," he said slowly.

"What do you mean 'If I want?' Of course I want. Don't you want? Why wouldn't we want?"

"I've just…been thinking."

"First for you, huh?" she deadpanned.

"Hey," he said, obviously serious about whatever he was going to say.

"Fine. What were you _thinking_ about, oh wise one?" she said, snatching a mug as her coffee finally indicated that it was ready.

"Well, I'm guessing from what you said back at the whole mess with the Curries, that your friends and family haven't really believed you when you said we weren't dating?"

"Don't remind me," she said irritably. "They're going to be absolutely frantic when they see this." She poured the coffee and took a sip of it black. She sighed with mild relief, but there was no releasing the tension that had developed between her shoulders this morning.

"Well I've been having the same problem. And it's obvious that Dinah isn't anywhere near ready to give up on what she considers her genius plan to force us to be together."

"Make your point, Queen," Chloe said, her patience thin.

"I was just…_thinking_—"

"Yes, we've established that."

"I was _thinking_," he repeated, annoyed, "that we could go along with it."

Chloe spit out the coffee she was drinking. "HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?" she shouted, wiping her chin.

"Hear me out: I don't mean we should actually get married. I'm just saying we should go along with the story for a couple of months or so. We give everyone the satisfaction of thinking they're right about us—"

"—and then we split up and they leave us alone forever," Chloe finished, cottoning on.

"Now you're getting it. Think about it: they come out of this thinking that we gave it a great shot, and that we just weren't right for each other in the end."

"And with any luck, they lay off trying to set either of us up with anyone else for at least a year, and we get to get on with our lives."

"It makes sense, in a weird way."

"I can't tell if it's brilliant or if I just haven't had enough coffee yet."

"Come on, Sullivan. It would be the ultimate scam. Just think about it."

"But…I mean, think about all we'd have to _do_ to make it look real," she reminded him, the plan already losing its seduction for her.

"It wouldn't be that tough. And it would just be for a couple of months. A small price for a lifetime of peace," he reminded.

Chloe bit her lip. _A lifetime of peace…_ "But…I don't know, Queen. That's a lot of lying."

"The truth obviously didn't work," he scoffed, clearly looking at his own copy of the news article. "Take a couple of hours to think about it. Have your coffee—" She could hear him grinning. How did anyone have such an _audible_ grin? "—and let me know what you think? I plan to ignore my phone in the meantime. Hal's probably going to call in about three hours to talk about the epic bachelor party he'll want to throw me." He was rolling his eyes. She could just _tell_.

"Deal," she said. "I need, like, five more cups of coffee before I trust myself to make this kind of decision." She hung up with Oliver and drained her coffee before setting the pot going again. She went to check her e-mail, and sure enough there was an e-mail from her mother:

**from: Moira Sullivan  
>subject: ?<strong>

_Chloe, you must call me immediately! How could you not tell me you were engaged? Obviously, our mother-daughter time is long overdue. I want to hear all about him. When can I meet him? You should invite him home for a weekend so your father and I can get to know him! I want to know everything. Does he have any food allergies? Do you think my lasagna would be okay? I wonder if—_

Chloe couldn't read any more. She promptly closed out of the e-mail. She knew that Lois was sleeping now, but it wouldn't be long before her cousin was calling her and demanding to know why she wasn't the first to hear about this.

It would be a nightmare untangling this mess. She imagined introducing Oliver to her parents briefly, but she couldn't actually picture them in the same room. It would be too weird.

* * *

><p>Oliver grabbed the bottle of orange juice in his fridge and uncapped it, then took a good long swig before turning back to the article laying on his coffee table.<p>

It was just uncanny. Who was so desperate for a story that they managed to thread together such incredibly miniscule details and make them into such a huge ordeal? His phone started ringing, and after checking that it wasn't his 'betrothed,' he let it go to voice mail. Once the message was left, he checked it.

_Oliver, honey, I want you to call me immediately. We need to talk about this Sullivan girl_—

For a brief moment, he thought his mother had actually seen through the ridiculousness in the paper and realized he wasn't actually engaged. But then she continued.

—_Since the press outed your engagement can I finally meet her? I don't know _why_ you've been hiding her from us. She seems charming in the papers. And by the way, this is nonsense about you using a Tiffany's ring. I've been keeping your grandmother's ring for just this reason. Have her over this weekend. Oh! And if her parents live nearby, invite them, too. I want to meet the whole—_

Oliver deleted the message. It was more than he could take. His grandmother's ring? On the finger of some woman he barely knew? It was more than he could handle. He took another long pull from the bottle of orange juice. Of all the women on the planet, he couldn't believe that his mother had gotten sucked into this. Surely she was far too intelligent to believe such blatant lies?

He decided to ignore his phone altogether after that, and went to the yoga mat he'd lain out before reading his paper. He sat down to meditate, but his brain was too full of all this nonsense to accomplish anything. So instead he began doing push-ups.

An hour later he was soaked in sweat but still worked up. How had his personal life gotten so utterly confused by the press? He'd been dealing with the media since he'd been born, and in all that time, never had they caused him so much trouble. Even when he was younger and going through a rebellious phase that involved a lot of partying and a lot of women, they hadn't managed to give him so much grief.

The very idea that anyone would believe he was engaged to _Chloe Sullivan_, of all people! It was almost insulting. After all, she was…was…

All right, so there was no real, specific reason he disliked her. But the fact remained that he _did! _How could people pair off two people who obviously had nothing but contempt for one another? Sure she was attractive, but he wasn't attracted _to_ her. And she was obviously immune to him, a fact that fascinated him, but did not entice him. Besides all that, they were just so inherently different! She was uptight and boring and he was…_him!_

The whole thing was absurd.

Just as he was thinking that particular thought, someone buzzed his apartment. He walked over to open the door, hoping it wasn't Mia here to congratulate him. Instead, to his surprise, it was the woman herself, her mouth a thin line of irritation. She held up a piece of paper for him. Confused, he took it, and saw that it was an e-mail she'd printed out from someone named Lucy.

**from: Lucy Lane**  
><strong>subject: congratulations<strong>

_Hey, heard you finally landed a man. Thank God. Uncle Gabe and Dad were convinced you were going to die alone. Congratulations._

_See you at Thanksgiving._

_Lu_

Oliver might have laughed, if not for the blonde standing in his doorway, seething with rage.

"I'm in," she said. "Now put some clothes on that don't smell like man-sweat so we can discuss the details.


	7. Chapter 7

—7—

At first Oliver could only stare at Chloe as she brushed past him into his apartment. Then her comment registered, and he realized that the T-shirt he was wearing was in fact one giant pit-stain at this point. Shrugging, he pulled it off and grabbed a towel on the way to his bedroom where he found a fresh shirt. "Can I get you anything?" he called to her from his room as he wiped down his chest with the towel. He remembered her statement earlier about coffee. "Coffee?" he offered, smirking.

"_Please_," she replied gratefully.

"There's a machine on the counter. Grounds in the cupboard behind it," he said with a little frown. "At least…I think there are. I haven't needed them in a while."

"How do you _live?_" was her only response.

He chuckled. When he re-entered his kitchen, he had a moment to really observe her, as she was completely absorbed in figuring out how to operate his coffee-maker, which he had to admit, was a little more complicated than was strictly necessary. There was a little crease between her eyebrows as she furrowed them in concentration. This was the first time he'd ever seen her dressed down: a pair of jeans and a burgundy and ivory striped sweater. It looked like she'd barely taken the time to throw on a little mascara, and her hair was still tousled with sleep by the look of it. He'd never seen her looking so approachable. In addition, he couldn't help noticing that her ass looked great in those jeans. He raised an eyebrow as he studied it. She let out a small noise of triumph when she got the coffee maker working, and his eyes flickered up to her face, which was lit with victory.

Then she turned to look at him. Her eyes raked over his form, taking in his sweat pants and the casual gray T-shirt he was wearing. She pursed her lips almost imperceptibly and crossed her arms over her chest. "Well?" she said.

"Just to clarify, you're agreeing to fake an engagement to me?" he said.

"That's the idea," she said.

"Great," he said, rubbing his hands together. "So where do we start?"

"Ground rules," Chloe said.

"Fair enough." He walked over to the bar and sat down. Chloe remained where she was—close to the coffee maker.

"Number one: there will be no sex."

"That's a given."

"Yeah, but you probably need to think about that more carefully. I don't just mean that we won't be having sex. I mean for the next few months, you will not be having sex at all. I refuse to endure the disgrace of being 'cheated on.' Personally, I wouldn't care. It's just that if someone finds out—in our personal lives or otherwise, it'll be hell." She caught the expression on his face and added hastily, "And of course the same would apply to me. I'm just bringing it up because I didn't know if you'd considered that aspect."

"What aspect is that exactly?" he asked, dragging a hand over his face and peering up at her.

Her face turned a little pink and he realized what she meant.

"You think I can't go a few months without sex?" he asked incredulously.

She looked up at the ceiling. "I'm just saying our lifestyles are different. Have you ever gone that long without sex before?" she asked, this time meeting his eyes.

As a matter of fact, he hadn't. But he wasn't about to say that out loud. "Of course. And this won't be a problem for you?" he threw back at her.

She scoffed. "Let's just say it's been a lot longer than that."

He raised an eyebrow. "Exactly how long has it been?" he couldn't stop himself from asking.

"_None_ of your business," Chloe said.

"Oh God, _that_ explains a lot."

"Excuse me?" she asked.

"Sorry."

Chloe closed her eyes as though praying for patience. "Right. So anyway. Rule Number One is that there will be no sex."

"Rule Number Two," Oliver continued, "no one else can know. I don't care who they are. If you feel too guilty about lying to someone, then now is the time to back out."

"Agreed. Not even our closest friends can know. Just us." The coffee maker finished and beeped to signify the fact. Chloe turned her attention from the topic at hand. "Mugs?" she asked.

He gestured to a cabinet and she opened it, standing on her tiptoes to reach for them. Her sweater rose up slightly as she did so, and he caught a glimpse of the smooth, pink skin of her stomach and lower back. "I forgot how short you are," he teased her as she snatched at the mug.

"I'm not short. I'm just surrounded by giants," she fired back. "Did you want any?" she asked.

He shook his head, smirking at her comeback. "Naw, I really just have that thing for guests. I don't drink coffee."

She shot him a look. "Tall _and_ weird," she said simply before pouring herself a cup. "I suppose cream would be too much to hope for?" she asked him.

He nodded. "Milk's in the fridge."

She shrugged and helped herself. He watched, fascinated, as she carried out what seemed to be a ritual for her, pouring the exact amount of milk she liked, then adding an extremely specific amount of sugar and stirring. She closed her eyes and almost reverently took the first sip. She groaned. "There's hope for you yet," she said, eyes still shut. "You buy good coffee." She took another sip and and sighed.

Oliver's eyebrows were up. He'd never seen anyone get so much _pleasure_ out of coffee. "Addict much?" he said.

"All I can say is death by coffee-overdose is my preferred way to go," she replied.

He smirked. "You know that stuff stunts your growth, right?"

She opened her eyes and shot a look at him. "Can it, sasquatch. Now where were we? No sex. Complete secrecy. Anything else?"

"I assume it goes without saying, but obviously this whole thing depends on the inevitable break-up. Any ideas on that?"

"Well, as stated, there will be no cheating scandal. I just refuse to involve myself in that. But what about breaking up because of jealousy?"

"I'm not the jealous-type."

"So?"

"It has to be believable, Sullivan," he reminded her. "Anyway, I don't see why I have to be the villain here."

She smirked back at him. "Just trying to make it believable," she winked.

He rolled his eyes. "Religious beliefs?" he suggested.

She raised a shoulder. "I'm Christian, but I'm not really that religious. As long as you're not part of some Satan-worshipping cult, I don't think it would be a problem."

"Yeah, same," he said.

They were silent for a while.

She snapped her fingers. "I want to have kids and you don't!" she suggested.

"But I _do_ want kids," he pointed out.

She looked surprised. "Really?"

He raise and eyebrow at her. "Why is that so shocking?"

"Sorry, I just…assumed you didn't really want to get married at all, let alone have a family."

He released a breath. "I mean, eventually I do. Just, not right now. And anyway it would have to be with the right woman. But the point is, my parents know how I feel about kids. So no one would believe it."

She heaved a frustrated sigh as well. "Same here. Wouldn't work then."

Again they were silent as they scraped for a viable excuse for their break-up. When nothing presented itself, Oliver decided to postpone the conversation. "Let's just shelf it for now. Something will come up eventually, after all. We'll probably have something figured out in 24 hours," he joked.

She laughed as well. "Good point. The break up is probably the one thing we won't have to _try_ to make convincing."

He grinned.

"So what else?" Chloe prompted him.

He ran a hand through his hair. "Well, you're probably not going to like this, but I think we should move in together."

"What? No way. I love my apartment."

"Yeah, but in order to really do this right, we have to make everyone believe that we gave the 'relationship' our best shot. And if I were really engaged, my fiance would be living with me."

She bit her lip. "Seriously?" she pleaded.

He nodded grimly.

She dropped her head to the counter and groaned a pathetic whining noise. "I don't wanna," she said sulkily.

"Hey, them's the rules, Sullivan," he said. "And trust me, I'm not too keen on living with you either."

"Ugh, _fine_. How long before I would have to move in?"

"I'd say you can have at least a week."

"A week—oh God, you're going to have to come out to Metropolis with me next weekend."

"What? Why?"

"Victor and Katherine's wedding. I'll have to RSVP for a guest if they'll still let me."

"Who are Victor and Katherine?"

"Victor's a long time friend. Met him through Clark when I was in high school. He coaches Met U's football team."

"Hang on," Oliver said, "I'll check my schedule." He left her to go to his office and pull out a thick black leather book that contained his calendar. "You're in luck," he informed her from the other room. "I've only got two meetings next weekend. They can probably be rescheduled." He closed the book and added under his breath, "I'm sure Dad'll understand."

"So," she said when he re-entered the room, "I think we should break for a little while, and then regroup later."

"Yeah?" he asked. "What for?'

"Well," she said, pulling her phone out of her pocket and holding it up as evidence. "I now have…" she double-checked, "thirty-_two_ missed calls to tend to. And I imagine you have a few messages to respond to as well."

Oliver thought of the voice-mail from his mother with a surge of guilt. "I might."

"Right. So, I'm going to take a couple of hours to deal with everyone, and then we can meet here later."

"What happens later?" he asked.

"If we're going to pull this off," she said, "we're going to need to get to know each other."

He swallowed tightly, looking at the determined expression on her face. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Great," she said, sticking her phone back in her pocket. Then she gave him a once over. "And…you should shower," she added.

* * *

><p><strong>The Phone Calls<strong>

"Hi, Mom."

"_Chloe, honey! Hi, sweetheart. Oh, how are you? I can't believe you got engaged. That is just too…first Lois and now you. You're all getting to be so grown up and I just don't know what to do."_

Chloe chuckled guiltily. "Yeah, it's great."

"_Well when do we get to meet him?"_

"I'll—uh, talk to him about that, Mom. But you know how busy I am, and he's always got a lot going on, too. And next weekend is Vic's wedding, so it might be a few weeks, okay?"

"_Oh, all right_," her mother conceded. _"But don't put it off. I want to know all about him. And I'm coming to visit you soon. I don't see anywhere near enough of you."_

Chloe smiled. She blamed herself for not staying in better touch with her mother. "I'd like that, Mom. We'll work something out soon. I'll e-mail you. But listen, I really can't talk much longer. I've got, like, a million people to talk to today."

"_Of course, of course. I won't keep you. But I want to hear all about how he proposed and this whole 'secret dating' thing. That is too romantic. You never did do things the easy way,"_ she sighed.

"Heh, yeah. Sure, Mom. Well, I'll talk to you soon."

"_Bye, sweetheart. Love you."_

"I love you, too, Mom."

* * *

><p>"Hello, Mother."<p>

"_Oliver, dear! I'm so glad to hear from you. I've been feeling absolutely neglected. I can't believe you got engaged without telling us about it!"_

"Yeah, sorry about that, Mother. We didn't mean for it to get out. I was going to tell you in person."

"_Oh it's all right, love. I know. I just don't know why you've been keeping it such a big secret!"_

"Well, we just didn't want our friends pressuring us when we first got together. A few of them are a little…pushy. But the cat's out of the bag now, I guess."

"_Well I want to meet her. Do you think she would do lunch with me?"_ his mother asked, as if she were nervous that Chloe wouldn't like her. Which was absurd. Oliver couldn't imagine a more enthusiastic mother-in-law.

"I'll have her over for dinner sometime soon, Mother," he sighed. "Just…relax. She'll love you. But why don't we hold off on the one-on-ones for now? I don't want her to feel overwhelmed."

"_Of course. What about her parents?"_

"They're—ah—" Where _were_ her parents from? He'd forgotten to ask. "I'll ask her about it, okay? I'm sure they'll all be thrilled to meet you and Dad."

"_Wonderful. Well, I won't keep you. But you should call your father, you know. He's practically bursting with pride. You know how he gets."_

"Sure, Mother. I'll talk to him."

"_All right, dear. We'll see you soon."_

"Bye, Mother. Love you."

"_Love you, too, dear."_

* * *

><p>"<em>Chloe Ann Sullivan!"<em>

"Hi, Lo."

"_I can't believe this! How could you get engaged without telling me? How could you have a whole relationship without telling me? I knew you were lying when you said you weren't seeing him. I just knew there was something going on!"_

"_Hi, Chloe."_

"Clark? Am I on speaker?"

"_Seriously, I had to find out about my own cousin's engagement from Lucy? How come she knew before me, huh?"_

"She gets up earlier than you do?" Chloe suggested.

"_Yeah, um, congratulations, by the way,"_ Clark offered up.

"Thanks Clark."

"_I mean, I don't see why you couldn't tell me about it. I thought we told each other everything. If you were _going_ to have a secret relationship, I should have been in on it! We're closer than sisters, remember?"_

"_Um, what Lois means, Chloe, is that she's really happy for you and Oliver. So…uh…congratulations again. (Lois, we should hang up, I'm sure Chloe has a lot of things to do today.)"_ Chloe heard Clark utter the last to Lois in a quieter voice.

"_She's my cousin and she didn't tell me she was engaged!"_ Lois ranted. _"This is an outrage! I'm outraged, Chloe!"_

"Sorry, Lo."

"_Sorry? She's sorry, Clark! The biggest news of her entire life, and I read it in the paper, and she's sorry!"_

"_Lois, she couldn't help that it got printed in the paper. I'm sure she was going to tell you the next time she saw you. Right, Chloe?"_

"Right. I wanted to tell you in person, so we could, um…celebrate together."

There was a short pause.

"…_really?"_ Lois asked tentatively.

"Of course, Lois. Biggest news of my life and all. I wanted to tell you face to face at Victor's wedding next week. I was saving it as a surprise."

Another pause.

"_Oh."_

"_See, Lois? Now congratulate her like you're supposed to."_

"_Congratulations, cuz," _Lois said fervently. _"Really, I'm so happy for you. I can't wait to help you plan your wedding. It's going to be amazing."_

Chloe smiled. "Well, I think we're planning to make it a long engagement, so there will be plenty of time for that," she said, amazed at how easy it was to lie through her teeth like this. "I'll let you know."

"_Can't wait to see you next week, Chloe," _Clark said.

"Me either, Clark. Miss you both like crazy," she added truthfully.

"_Miss you, too, Chlo,"_ Lois said.

"_Bye, Chloe!"_ Clark added.

"Bye, guys," she said before they hung up.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Hal."<p>

"_Oliver Freaking Queen. My man. Engaged. Dude, I can't believe you beat me to the punch."_

"Still haven't proposed to Carol?"

"_Dude, she just does not make it easy, y'know?"_

"Aw come on. Four words, man. It's a piece of cake."

"_You're telling me you weren't nervous proposing to Chloe? Aw, I'm calling bullshit man. Ten bucks says you were sweating bullets."_

"Uh—yeah, I mean, I was nervous, but—"

"_I guess when it feels right it's just…right, huh?"_

"Yeah. Exactly."

"_Man, that is just so crazy. Can't believe it. You and Sullivan. What a team. I always thought you two'd be great for each other. It's so weird, though, I didn't even know you were dating."_

"We, uh, were sort of keeping it on the down low. Chloe didn't want to have to deal with a huge fallout with our friends if things didn't work out," he said, grasping for excuses.

Hal chuckled. _"Yeah, that sounds like the Chloe I know."_

Did it? Well that was a relief. "So you and Carol are still doing good?"

"_Oh yeah, we're great. She just won't sit still long enough to let me propose to her."_

Oliver laughed. "Yeah, well, tell her I said she'd better say yes or I'll never forgive her."

"_Yeah, yeah. Well, listen, I gotta get going, but congratulations, man. I'm so happy for you. Really."_

"Thanks, man. I appreciate that."

"_You be good to that girl, okay? I'll beat you're ass if I hear she's being mistreated."_

"Hey, would I do that?"

"_Yeah, well, I like Sullivan, so I'm just sayin': play nice."_

"Whatever, dude. I'll talk to you later."

"_You got it, man. Congrats again."_

They hung up.

* * *

><p>"Hi."<p>

"_Unbelievable! After all the grief you gave me!"_

"Yeah, sorry about that, Dinah."

"_Well I wish you'd just told me you were trying to avoid the paparazzi. I wouldn't have been dragging you out in public with him all the time!"_

"I—er—what?"

"_You and Oliver. If I'd just known that you were actually dating, we wouldn't have had that whole fiasco at the restaurant. You should tell me these things, honey. I know you like to keep your personal life private. It just never occurred to me that the press was getting to you so much. I'm sorry, dearest."_

"Uh…well, thanks."

"_But congratulations! My goodness, what a whirlwind romance! Has it really just been a few short months? But when it's true love, I suppose you just know, don't you?"_

"Yep. Thanks, Dinah."

"_God, this is just too, too wonderful. Arthur's thrilled as well, by the way. I mean, neither of us imagined—well, I imagined it, but still—that our two best friends would end up as happy as we are. Ugh! It's just perfect. We have to get together so you can tell me all the juicy details. I want to hear all about when you started dating and how he proposed and…everything!"_

"Well, sure, Dinah, but I can't tonight. I'm—"

"_Celebrating with Oliver? Of course. But I'll see you for sure next weekend. So I expect to hear about it all then. God, I'm just so happy for you, Chloe. Really. Marriage will be the best thing that ever happened to you, just you wait and see!"_

Chloe smiled weakly. "Thanks, Dinah. That means a lot."

"_I'll talk to you soon, darling. Congratulations again."_

"Bye, Dinah."

* * *

><p>"Hi, Mia."<p>

"_Oh my God, I'm so excited for you!"_

"Thanks, Mia."

"_Seriously, I've only been working for her for a couple of weeks, but Chloe is the most awesome person ever. I'm just so excited! Please tell me I'm invited to your wedding!"_

He swallowed nervously. "Of course, Mia. I wouldn't leave you out!"

"_For real, Oliver: most awesome day ever! I can't believe you wouldn't tell me you were dating her. You have such a good poker face it's crazy!"_

Oliver chuckled. "Right."

"_Congratulations, Oliver, seriously. I'm so excited for you. Oh, but Oliver?"_

"Yeah?"

"_Don't screw this up because if I have to pick sides, I may be forced to choose hers."_

"Ouch. That hurts."

"_Them's the breaks."_

"Hey!" he protested, laughing. "Anyway, I'm also calling because I have to cancel our training this afternoon."

"_Hangin' out with your fiancé?"_ she teased him in a sing-song voice.

"You got me."

"_Well fine,"_ she sighed dramatically. _"I'll forgive you. But only because you got engaged. Congratulations, Oliver!"_

"Thanks, Mia. I'll see you later this week for sure."


	8. Chapter 8

—8—

"Are you planning to stay out there all night?"

The voice on the intercom made Chloe jump, looking around in surprise. She spotted a camera and rolled her eyes. How long had he known she was out there?

Chloe had made several attempts to ring the bell in the last ten minutes, but a new nervousness had taken over. After all of the phone calls, the weight of what she was doing had sunken in on her. She was lying. Lying to _everyone_. It was one thing to keep the occasional secret or to tell a little fib here and there, but this was open, blatant, straight-up _lying_. And to the people who loved and cared for her! She couldn't remember the last time she hadn't been completely honest with her mother. Not since high school, for sure.

And why? Why was she intentionally deceiving everyone she cared about? For Oliver Queen? For herself? Because she had been a little miffed that Dinah's marriage had made her pushier than ever? Surely she was more mature than that. Surely she was more intelligent than that! What had she gotten herself into? And with a man she knew almost nothing about! Oliver Queen, of all people. Oliver Queen, whose reputation proceeded him.

Standing as she was on the precipice of the greatest tangle of lies she was sure anyone had ever involved themselves in, she just hadn't been able to press the bell to ring it and let him know she was here.

But she had been spotted. And the elevator doors opened. She found Oliver waiting with a smirk in place, and two bottles of wine in either hand. He lifted them. "I didn't know which poison you preferred, so I got out the merlot and the moscato."

He might as well have had a pair of horns on his head, and a curly black mustache.

_Well_, she thought to herself, _I always imagined the devil would be handsome_. "Definitely the vodka," she said aloud.

He laughed at that, and shook his head, setting the bottles down on the counter and heading to his liquor cabinet for a bottle of vodka. That done, he poured them each a shot. He handed her one with a grin.

"So…" she asked, holding it with a sense of trepidation, "what are we drinking to?"

He thought for a moment before making his suggestion. "To leading our own damn lives the way we please."

She grinned. "Wonder what that must be like," she joked, clinking glasses before throwing the shot back.

An hour later, they were on separate couches, a little bit tipsy and still talking, tossing a stress-ball back and forth.

"Let's see…parents' names. Go." He tossed her the stress ball, which she caught lightly.

"Gabe and Moira. Yours?" she asked.

"Robert and Laura."

Chloe thought for a moment. "Childhood pets?" She tossed back the ball.

Oliver caught in one hand—even on a buzz, he apparently had amazing reflexes. "None. You?"

"I had Clark's farm. Didn't need pets."

"Kent?"

"Yeah, we were best friends growing up, so I spent almost all my time at his place. I wasn't really big on the horses, but his golden retriever Shelby was the greatest dog ever."

"Interesting," Oliver said. For not the first time that evening, he was feeling a prick of curiosity about Chloe's relationship with football star Clark Kent. He was beginning to wonder exactly how Clark had ended up with Chloe's cousin Lois. A thought occurred to him. "Romantic history," was all he said, tossing the ball back to her.

As anticipated, Chloe's face turned very red, and she no longer met his eyes. She reached for the vodka to pour herself another shot. Throwing it back with abandon, she determined how much of which stories to tell him. "Two serious relationships. Jimmy Olson in the early years of college. Davis Bloom for about a year later on."

"Not Kent?" he asked, honestly surprised.

Chloe allowed an internal sigh of relief that he had not interrogated her about Jimmy or Davis. "Nah. I mean, I had a crush on him for the better part of a decade, but at the end of the day, we were always just really good friends."

"Huh."

Turning the attention back to Oliver, she raised her eyebrows. "You?"

Oliver gave a short chuckle.

"Why don't you skip anything that lasted less than a year," Chloe said derisively. "Otherwise we'll be here all night."

Oliver gave her a sarcastic look before responding. "Honestly I'd say the only one that mattered was Tess Mercer."

"You and Tess?" Chloe looked shocked.

"Probably before you met her," he offered. "She was the only girlfriend I ever had serious intentions about, even though there were others that lasted a while."

"What ended it?"

"She did. Mostly." He dropped his head back on the couch and stared at the ceiling. "I dunno. I cared about her a lot, but I don't think I was as in love with her as I thought I was. If I had been, I probably wouldn't have let her go so easily."

Chloe thought of Tess and Emil. They had always seemed like a very sweet but unlikely couple. She could much more easily picture a fireball like Tess with someone like Oliver. "Did she give you a reason?"

Oliver shrugged, pretending it wasn't that big of a deal even though it was. "Said she needed someone more grounded. Thought I didn't take anything seriously." He caught the look on Chloe's face, which said plainly that she thought Tess was right. "Having a sense of humor doesn't mean I don't take things seriously," he said firmly.

Chloe raised her hands in surrender. "I didn't say anything."

"You were thinking it."

She suppressed a smile and started to pour them each another shot.

He raised his eyebrows as she did and couldn't help commenting, "You can really hold your vodka." He was surprised that she was still only a little tipsy, when they'd almost gone through the whole bottle together.

She smirked. "Lois taught me how to drink."

"Ah yes, the general's daughter," Oliver said, excepting the shot from her. "Some interesting relatives you've got."

Chloe laughed outright. "You have no idea."

"What do your parents do?"

She shrugged. "My dad's a plant manager for LuthorCorp. Mom's a stay-at-home."

"Huh."

"What?" she narrowed her eyes.

"Well how did your dad react to our 'engagement'?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well he works for LuthorCorp."

"And?"

"And the Luthors hate Queen Industries, and by proxy, so do most of their employees."

She chuckled, on a buzz from her last shot. "First, don't pretend that your company doesn't have an equal animosity for the Luthors, and second, my dad's not high enough on the food chain to care that much about the politics."

Oliver shook his head. "You are so weird."

She laughed. "Excuse me?"

"You're just really weird. You come from an unambitious family and grew up in a tiny little town that's actually called Smallville."

"Make your point," she glared. But she couldn't hold the glare, and she ended up laughing.

He grinned at her laugh. It looked like he was close to discovering just how many shots it took before she started to get properly drunk. He poured them both another one. "All I'm saying is you're quite the success story considering your background."

"What's wrong with my background?" she demanded, frowning at him and not taking the glass.

"Nothing. You just didn't grow up somewhere that was promoting that kind of ambition. It was all you." He gave her a little nod, as if to commend her.

She eyed the glass he was still offering, but reached for the empty glass and poured a new one. "I'll drink to that," she smirked, raising it to him. "You're falling behind anyway."

He laughed at that, and joined her in the drink. He was definitely a little tipsy, but he was far from his limit. He supposed it was only fair that he catch up to her since she'd end up drunk first regardless.

Chloe smacked her lips after the drink and looked around at the apartment, frowning. "Do you actually like it here?"

He laughed out loud. "Yes, actually. Why?"

She just shook her head, rising from the couch, albeit a little wobbly as she did so. "It's just so…you live in a miniature factory," she decided after a moment.

He laughed again, leaning back to watch her explore the place. "I believe the term you're looking for is 'modern.'"

"And I believe the term _you're _looking for is 'cold,'" she retorted, looking at the stainless steel everywhere. "And it's too clean. Where are your knickknacks?" she asked.

"My what?" he asked, finding the word hilarious.

"Knickknacks," she repeated. "Clutter. Personal items that serve no purpose except to take up space."

"Don't have those."

She snorted. "Yeah, I can see that." She looked around at him. "You are so boring."

This time he really laughed, holding his sides. "That—" he managed, "has got to be the first time a woman has said that to me."

"It's true," she said stubbornly. "Only someone with absolutely no personality would have an apartment this devoid of clutter."

"Maybe I just keep it tidy. Has that occurred to you?" he asked, noticing that Chloe had finished off the vodka with the last shot she'd poured. He stood up to get another bottle.

Chloe was shaking her head. "Nope. Even the tidiest people have knickknacks. You just keep it this clean to show off for women."

He smirked. "Partly true."

"_All_ true," she argued stubbornly.

He rolled his eyes, not bothering to try to convince her otherwise.

"We should get you some knickknacks," she decided, inspecting his weight set along the far wall.

"Blueberry or apple?" he asked, referring to flavors.

"Apple."

He nodded, opening the new bottle and filling the glasses again. He brought her one. "So I still don't know what a knickknack is," he told her, clinking his glass to hers.

They drank before she explained. "It's like…little glass chickens. Or ceramic dogs Or those bottles of sand that have seashells in them."

He looked at her like she was crazy. "Why would I want either of those things?"

She shrugged, taking the bottle of apple vodka from him and taking a swig before offering it to him. He just stared.

"Ugh," she heaved a dramatic sigh. "I don't know. Because your great aunt Myrtle brought it to you from Florida," she made up. "Or because your 6 year old nephew made it. Whatever. The point is, all human beings have them. Has it occurred to you that we're going to have to kiss at some point?"

She changed the subject so abruptly and so seamlessly that her tone hadn't even changed from when she was talking about ceramic dogs. Oliver faltered for a second, completely surprised. "What?" he asked, trying to keep up.

"Kiss. You Tarzan. Me Jane. We're going to have to kiss."

"Why?"

She threw her hands up at the ceiling, as if wondering why she had to deal with this kind of stupidity, but it threw her slightly off balance, so he grabbed her arm to steady her.

"Because you know it's going to happen. At some point, somebody's going to be all, 'Well, Ollie, why don't you kiss the bride?' and you're gonna have to do it. And we're going to have to swap saliva and it's going to be _so_ gross."

He laughed at her. "I resent that!"

"Well has it?" she demanded, not to be deterred.

"Has what?"

"Has it _occurred to you_?" she asked irritably.

He shrugged. "I guess. It's no big deal."

She glared at him.

He quirked an eyebrow. "Right?"

She snatched the vodka back from him and took another drink, walking away from him and returning to the couch.

"Am I missing something?"

"Of course not," she rolled her eyes, looking at him with undisguised accusation. "It's no big deal for you. Just like it will be no big deal for you that people are going to assume I'm sleeping with you. And it'll be no big deal for you when we finally break it off."

He raised an eyebrow, deciding maybe the second bottle hadn't been such a good idea. He sat down next to her to take it away. "It won't be that big of a deal for you, either."

"That's where you're wrong," she said, pouting when he took the bottle. "Because it's all one big double-standard. I'm going to go from being one of the most successful women in this city to that girl that Oliver Queen broke up with."

He frowned, suddenly feeling a little guilty. "We can always tell them you dumped me, you know." After all, his reputation would bounce back easily. Truthfully, there wasn't really that much at stake where he was concerned. But he realized she did have a lot at stake. He'd always heard that Chloe Sullivan was a cold business woman. He'd been told she kept a tight schedule and almost never made time for a personal life. He'd assumed she was uptight and didn't know how to have fun. For the first time, it occurred to him that she was just scared, and that was a carefully maintained facade.

Chloe laid her head back on the couch and stared at the ceiling. "No one would believe that."

He laughed. "Are you kidding?"

She shook her head.

"Look, Sullivan—"

"You're going to have to start calling me Chloe."

"_Chloe_," he said, smiling a little that she'd turned the tables on him. "I think you're underestimating yourself. And anyway, if you really want to, it's not too late to back out."

She rolled her head to the side to look at him. "That," she said, "is _such_ a lie."

He shrugged. "All right, it is, but we could always come clean."

"Nope," she shook her head. "Rule number two."

"No one must know," he said for her, grinning a little. "You are a dedicated woman."

She nodded. "Never quit."

"Well, Chloe Sullivan," he said. "You'd better have some water before you go to bed tonight, or you're going to hate me in the morning even more than you already do.


	9. Chapter 9

—9—

"I still can't believe it."

"It's true."

"I knew it the whole time."

Mia rolled her eyes. She was filing papers on the far wall and listening to Louise and Vivian chatter away with Edward about Miss Sullivan's new engagement. Louise was in shock. She couldn't believe there had been gossip this big sitting right under her nose, and somehow she'd failed to realize it. Vivian was staunchly maintaining that she'd known about it the whole time—though Mia sincerely doubted that. She'd only been working there for a short time, but so far she hadn't seen anything to indicate that Miss Sullivan would ever confide anything in Louise Foster. Edward, on the other hand, was very simply surprised. Mia suspected he had something to hide, but she couldn't imagine what.

"Hey, Mia, how are you, by the way?" Edward asked casually at that moment, pausing to greet her before he headed to another level.

"I'm good, thanks Edward," she smiled. Edward was the only person besides Miss Sullivan who ever took much notice of her. Louise and Vivian only bothered with her to give her more work or to make snide comments about her clothes and hair. She was convinced that they were _trying_ to make her quit for some reason. Her first week, they had given her a list of tasks that would have been impossible to complete if she weren't well-versed in the streets of Metropolis and how to get from one place to another as fast as possible. Since then they had given her only a few errands that required leaving the building, but they still had her going in circles.

"These two harpies aren't working you too hard, are they?" he asked quietly, leaning closer to her.

"You kidding?" she grinned. "I can handle whatever they throw at me, easy." It was a half-truth. They were running her ragged, but they didn't know her. So she had to work hard. There was nothing they could do to her here that would be worse than her old life. Even if that weren't enough motivation to stick it out and get everything done no matter what, she felt a certain obligation, first to Oliver, for everything he had done for her. She wanted nothing more than to make him proud of her, and to show him how grateful she was for his help. Second, she owed it to Miss Sullivan. The woman had taken an unnecessary chance in hiring Mia. And Mia knew she was lucky to even be there. She wanted to prove herself to Miss Sullivan, and to show her that she'd made the right decision bringing Mia on board.

Just after Edward left, he returned in the wake of Miss Sullivan herself, who was coming in much later that day than was usual for her. Even in her rush, she spared Mia a quick smile, and Mia said good morning to her and watched the pair vanish into Chloe's office, where the window-walls were tinted so no one could see inside.

"You liar."

Chloe blushed.

"I can't believe I didn't realize you were seeing him! When did it start? Why didn't you tell anyone?" Edward asked.

Chloe released a breath of relief. For a moment, she'd thought Edward was about to call her out on her phony engagement. She was blushing crimson. "Yeah…"

"I just can't get over what an actress you are. Who'd have thought?" He leaned against a wall, crossing his arms and grinning at her expectantly.

She managed to smile back. "That's me. Academy Award winning."

"Well go on. Tell me the whole story."

_Okay. I rehearsed this. I can do this._ "Well I really wasn't lying in the beginning. I didn't want anything to do with him. But we kept running into each other, and things sort of developed. But I wanted to keep it out of the media. I mean…you saw what they did with just a couple of hunches. What would they blow up a real relationship into?"

Edward made a face. "Fair point. But what about the engagement? Where's the ring?" he added, noticing her bare hand.

Chloe chuckled lightly. "Yeah, that. Well, they got it a bit wrong on that point. Qu–Oliver didn't propose in Gotham. Especially not with us both having dates there. How tacky would that have been? But I guess our poker faces weren't as good as we thought. He actually proposed to me later that night."

"Oh my God, this is just unbelievable. And I suppose going out with Dent was just to throw people off the trail?"

She smiled sheepishly. "Guilty as charged."

"God I swear, Darren and I had a pool going about you two, but neither of us saw this coming. It's so sudden!"

"Well, we're going to make it a long engagement," she 'admitted.' "We talked it over and we've been together such a short time, we feel it's wisest to take our time from here. Besides that, the way our calendars are, we couldn't plan a proper wedding if we tried."

"Oh my God, I have so many Frank Sinatra songs playing in my head right now."

"You are so gay."

"Guilty," he grinned. "So," he stood up and straightened his cuffs. "What do we need to do?"

"Right. Down to business. I've got an engagement announcement—a proper one—for you to send out to these papers—" she handed him a piece of paper with a short paragraph and a second one with a list of newspapers, "—and of course it will go in my editorial column for this month's edition of _Whistle_."

"Naturally," Edward grinned. "And in the meantime, you've got a 6 page spread to approve, a meeting with designer Lena Marx, and two of your writers want to see you at some point today. Oh, and—"

"Yeah…all that's going to have to wait."

"I'm sorry?"

"It's all going to have to wait."

"For what?"

"I have…" she swallowed tightly, "_lunch plans." _She was looking over his shoulder. Edward turned around and there, just stepping off the elevator, was Oliver Queen in the flesh.

"Oh _shit_. He's even more attractive in person."

Chloe smirked. "He is, isn't he?"

The pair watched as Louise and Vivian eventually noticed Oliver's presence. Louise spilled her coffee and Vivian tripped on her computer system unit, and sent her keyboard and modem crashing to floor.

Edward smacked his palm to his forehead. "Oh God, you'd better get out their before the harpies set the building on fire by accident."

"I'm on it," Chloe said, already halfway out of the office. Edward followed, too curious to stay put.

Oliver was talking to Mia.

"Brought you lunch," he grinned, holding up a bag.

Mia looked as though she were trying not to laugh at something. "Sweet," she said, taking the bag from him. "You're the best." She gave him a hug. Vivian dropped her keyboard again. "So what're you doing here?" she asked.

"Just picking up my better half," Oliver said easily, trying to think of something to say that sounded like he was engaged. None of his real relationships had ever been this awkward.

"And she's ready," Chloe offered up, drawing everyone's attention to her. _Oh, God, I'm so not comfortable with any of this._

Oliver turned to look at Chloe and subtly winked at her, grinning. "Great," he said. "Well…" he shifted slightly, "let's go then?"

Chloe nodded and joined him across the room, painfully aware of each pair of eyes following her as she did.

Moments later, Oliver and Chloe burst into the sunlight, which, unsurprisingly, was mingled with camera flashes.

"Miss Sullivan! Miss Sullivan! Over here!"

"Oliver! Give us a smile!"

"Kiss her!"

At the last particular statement, Chloe couldn't resist shooting Oliver a look that said quite plainly, "I told you so."

Oliver grinned his defeat and helped her into his car, protecting her from the more aggressive photographers as he did so before walking around to the other side of the car. They'd both agreed that the press didn't deserve to be rewarded with any comment considering their obvious idiocy.

He sat down in the driver's seat and looked over at Chloe. She still had the look on her face.

"And so it begins," he said, putting the car in gear and driving off, successfully scattering the people still trying to photograph them through the car windows.

"This is insane. Why did we do this? No one's going to believe it."

"Actually I think we did it _because_ everyone believed it, oddly enough."

"Right. I'm seriously questioning the intelligence of our friends and family."

"Yeah, so speaking of family. You ready for this?"

Chloe scoffed. "What? Like, am I nervous?"

Oliver glanced at her.

She laughed a little. "Somehow the fact that this is all a big show makes me a lot less nervous about meeting the Queen Mother," she joked. But her bravado was partly for show, she admitted to herself. Even she had to admit there was something slightly intimidating about meeting Laura Queen, and the fact that the circumstances Chloe was meeting her under were that Chloe was lying to the entire world didn't exactly help that fact. What if Mrs. Queen realized the truth? What would she think of Chloe? What would she do?

Oliver sensed Chloe's half truthfulness but didn't comment. "Listen, just, be polite to her, okay? She's my only mother. And also, I'd appreciate it if you kept some of your snark to yourself."

Chloe raised an eyebrow at him. "Excuse me?" she said, a note of warning in her voice.

"I'm just saying I'd appreciate it if you pretended to think well of me in front of my mother. After all, I'd like her to think that I treat my 'fiance' nicely."

"Well why don't you just treat me nicely?" Chloe sassed. "Then you wouldn't have to worry about it."

"Oh God," Oliver sighed. "You're going to make this as difficult as possible, aren't you?"

Chloe's eyes twinkled in response. "Have you got all your stories straight?" she asked him, changing the subject.

"Yeah," he said resentfully. "I'm pretty sure I've got it covered."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm just making sure. Jeez. Relax a bit, will you?"

Oliver's jaw ticked. "I can't believe people believe we're engaged," he grumbled.

"Preaching to the choir, pal."

* * *

><p>They bickered for the rest of the car ride until reaching the restaurant, where a doorman opened the car door for Chloe and helped her out while Oliver tossed the keys to the valet. He walked over to her and put a hand on her lower back. Chloe paused for the briefest fraction of a second at the intimate touch, her eyes flickering to him as her stomach tightened.<p>

_You're going to have to get used to that_, she told herself, allowing him to lead her through the front door to the restaurant.

The restaurant was one Chloe had been to before to meet with clients, and it spoke volumes of Mrs. Queen's taste and personality that she had chosen it as the place she would meet her supposed future daughter-in-law.

Chloe vaguely recalled that _Whistle _ had reviewed the restaurant upon its first opening. "Posh," the writer had said. It was "posh," "elegant." The walls were white, the floor a gleaming hardwood. Fine china and impressionist paintings decorated the walls in a few places. Crystal chandeliers hung from the damask-textured ceilings. Ivory lace curtains trimmed the many large windows and heavy taffeta draped in the various doorways. Antique chairs and tables were dressed with white table cloths, and the food was served on willow china, the blue and white patterns the brightest colors in the room.

And the food was excellent. Sandwiches, soups, quiches, salads, and cakes graced the menu. "Mouth-watering," the reviewer had written, describing a crusty french dip. "Sumptuous," referring to the chocolate soufflé.

Chloe suddenly felt like a little girl dressed in her Easter Sunday clothes, like she knew she was supposed to behave prim and proper to match her pink frills, but inside she was bursting to jump up on the tables and start smashing plates. She bit the fingernail on her thumb nervously.

Laura Queen was waiting for them. She had long, light blonde hair, a softer blonde than her son's golden yellow, and it was pinned up loosely in a twist. She wore skinny, dark wash jeans and a large, pistachio-green cashmere sweater, and large diamond studs sparkled in each ear. The way she carried herself reminded Chloe instantly of Audrey Hepburn, and she suddenly had an urge to have a profile piece done on Laura Queen for _Whistle_. She was fascinating at first glance. And when she saw Chloe enter with her son, the smile that spread across her enchanted face was so endearing and inviting that Chloe had to resist an impulse to run up to her and hug her, as if it were almost worth marrying Oliver just for his mother.

She shook herself. _No need to get carried away_.

Laura greeted her son first. "Oliver, darling." She placed her hands on his shoulders and kissed his cheek. Then she turned to Chloe and took her hands, squeezing them affectionately, her eyes speaking volumes of delight. "I'm so happy to meet you. I want us to be friends immediately," she said.

Chloe melted instantly, squeezing Mrs. Queen's hands back. "Me too," she smiled genuinely.

Oliver cleared his throat, pulling out his mother's chair for her and then Chloe's, taking his own chair once the women were seated. "So, I want to hear everything," Laura said, sitting down. "I'll skip the usual questions, since I know what you do for a living, Chloe. When did you two meet?" she asked.

"At Arthur Curry's wedding," Oliver answered.

"That's right. And how long have you been dating? I can't believe he's been keeping it a secret from his own mother," she added conspiratorially to Chloe.

Chloe couldn't resist smiling. "Well, that was mostly my fault. Since I work in the media, I wanted to avoid a scandal. So much for that brilliant plan," she joked, as planned, meeting Oliver's eyes. Oliver winked surreptitiously.

Laura watched the interaction with approval. "But how long?" she persisted.

"A few months. Which is why we're planning on a long engagement," Oliver added. "We know we've been rushing things up 'til now, so we want to take it slow from here on out. Enjoy the ride."

Laura sighed wistfully. "Oh, to be young and in love," she half-joked. "I remember when your father and I first met, Oliver. Swept me off my feet instantly. Not that I told him that," she added. "As a matter of fact, you're both forbidden to tell him I said that. I did nothing but tease him for the first three months I knew him." She took a sip of ice water and winked at Chloe from behind the glass.

Chloe laughed. "Well, if he's anything like Oliver, I can imagine why."

"They're such easy targets, aren't they?" Laura agreed, wrinkling her nose in humor.

"Exactly!" Chloe exclaimed, leaning in closer. "You just want to bring down his ego a little bit!"

Oliver kicked her under the table, and she nearly exclaimed aloud, but Laura didn't noticed. "Exactly," she agreed. "Robert was the same way. So sure of himself. It completely threw him off when I didn't just throw myself at him." She rolled her eyes humorously. "I'm not sure that had ever happened to him before. Oliver's cut from the same cloth."

Chloe snickered, biting her lip as she chanced a look at Oliver, who looked annoyed. "Thank you so much, Mother," he said sarcastically. "You're so sweet."

Laura waved him off, sending Chloe a long-suffering look. "You're so sensitive, Oliver."

Chloe smirked at him. "Yeah, Oliver. You're so _sensitive_."

Oliver just gave her a childishly-sarcastic look.

A waiter arrived and took their order, and then Laura asked a more intense question. "So how did he propose?" she looked from Chloe to Oliver. "I'm dying to know."

Chloe panicked slightly and looked to Oliver for rescue. Picking up on her unease, he leapt in to help. "Well, we haven't been out much publicly, you know. So we were just having dinner at my apartment, and I brought her out onto the roof—it was a completely gorgeous night, by the way—and, well—" he looked at Chloe with such convincing affection that Chloe caught her breath slightly, her lips parting as she pictured it, "that's when I asked her."

Chloe swallowed slightly. It was a lovely scene to imagine. Quiet, personal, intimate. A proposal under the stars.

Laura sighed, dabbing her eye with her napkin delicately, and Chloe chanced a proper look at Oliver. "Wow," she mouthed to him, impressed.

"So…I daresay you haven't set a date yet?" she asked.

"No, not yet," Chloe said, regaining herself.

"Of course not. Well…" she looked at Chloe pleadingly. "Well," she repeated. "Now, I don't want to be that awful, over-bearing mother-in-law, but…well, I'd really just love to be involved with the wedding plans. I promise you get the final say in everything, but I do want to help," she said, taking Chloe's hand across the table. "Would you mind terribly?"

"I—" Chloe hesitated, not sure what to say. She was going to have to plan a fake wedding with this kind, wonderful woman? She wasn't sure she could be that cruel, but Oliver kicked her under the table again, and she had no choice. "Of course. I wouldn't want it any other way."

"Oh _thank you_," Laura smiled so warmly that Chloe again had an impulse to just hug her as tightly as she could. "I promise I won't be overbearing, but I do love weddings, and he's my only son, and oh, God, I'm so emotional," she mocked herself, reaching for her napkin again, her eyes glistening threateningly. "I'm just so thrilled he's finally settling down."

"_Mother_," Oliver rolled his eyes.

"Well, I can't help it," she said. "I worry about you so. He does nothing but give me gray hairs, this one," she gave Chloe a commiserating look. "You know, I'm sure."

"I'm hardly that bad," Oliver protested.

"Are you kidding? You give me heart palpitations," she clutched her chest dramatically. "And by the way, did you discuss the ring at all?" she asked.

Chloe shot Oliver a sharp look. Ring? What was she talking about.

Oliver shifted uncomfortably. "We haven't picked one out, yet."

Laura Queen was already fishing in her purse. "Good. Chloe," she said, pulling a velvet box out of her purse. "If it's not your taste I'll understand, but…" she offered up the box, "I would be _honored…Oliver_ would be honored, if you would wear my mother's ring."

Chloe tried not to show her internal horror. "I…I…" she stuttered. "I couldn't possibly—I mean to say—well," she looked to Oliver for help, but he looked equally panicked. "I feel like I don't have a right to something so special."

"Nonsense," Laura brushed her off, placing the box in Chloe's hands. "I don't have any daughters, so of course you should have it."

Chloe didn't know what to do. This was a whole new level of low, accepting a family heirloom. "I don't know what to say." She paused, swallowing tightly. "Thank you. I really don't deserve it," she finished humbly, hating herself as she finally accepted the box.

Laura smiled and looked as if she'd never been so happy.

* * *

><p>"I'm a horrible person," Chloe groaned two hours later at Oliver's penthouse. "I'm a horrible, <em>horrible<em> person."

Oliver grimaced ruefully. "There was nothing we could have done."

"I'm really sorry," she told him sincerely.

"Hey," he held up his hand to stop her apology. "We were in a bind. You could hardly have refused. It's okay."

"I just…it's a family heirloom. I feel awful taking it."

Oliver sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "There's nothing for it. It's okay."

"You're sure?"

Oliver, who was trying not to show how bitter he was feeling, looked at Chloe's openly distressed expression and softened. "Yeah," he said truthfully. "It's okay."

She looked just slightly placated and relaxed her shoulders. "Well," she said, "at least you won't have to meet my parents for a bit."

"That's for sure."

"Are you ready for Vic and Katherine's?" Chloe asked, changing the subject, referring to the impending wedding.

"I think we'll manage. If we could handle my mother, we can handle anything.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Sorry this took so long, everyone. I have taken a third job and I'm often too exhausted when I would like to be writing. I hope it was worth the wait, though!<strong>

**Meanwhile, I'm off to write a Mad Swan fic, for anyone who's watching/obsessing over Once Upon a Time like me. So check for that sometime tomorrow! :)  
><strong>


	10. Chapter 10

—10—

"Dress for the rehearsal dinner."

"Check."

"_Shoes_ for the rehearsal dinner."

"Check."

"Wedding clothes."

"Check."

"Tape recorder, laptop, tablet, and pens."

"Check to all of the above."

"Paper bag."

"Paper bag?"

Edward glanced up from the check-list on his tablet and looked at Mia. "They're in the bottom left drawer of her desk. Trust me on this one."

Mia shrugged, heading into the study and opening the drawer, revealing a stack of brown paper lunch bags. She pulled out a couple and then stuck them in the front zipper pocket of Chloe's smaller suitcase. "Paper bags: check," she said.

"Great." Edward tapped out a few buttons on the tablet and then lowered his arms to look around. "That covers it."

"Does Miss Sullivan normally ask you to do things like this for her?" Mia asked curiously. "Like, personal errands, I mean."

Edward raised a casual shoulder. "Not very often. She's a very independent person—likes to look after herself. But things have been…_different_. Since she got engaged."

Mia raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"She's…" Edward frowned. What was she? Chloe had certainly been behaving differently since her engagement to Oliver Queen came out. She was…was…

"Oh my God, I swear, my sanity is hanging by such a thin thread right now," Chloe announced her entrance to her apartment, the door swinging open and her Louis Vuitton bag dropping to the floor unceremoniously. She leaned in the door frame, fatigue evident in every part of her body, and looked at her suitcases, then Mia and Edward. "Are they ready?"

"All ready to go," Edward said pleasantly.

"And we made you coffee," Mia added eagerly, rushing over to the counter to start fixing the coffee the way she had learned Chloe took it.

Chloe released a grateful sigh. "You two are unimaginably wonderful."

"How was the meeting with Jaurez?"

"Good…sort of. All they wanted to talk about was who I'm getting to do my wedding gown." She rolled her eyes. "It's all any of the designers want to talk about. I'm going to have to start sending someone else to these meetings until I can make a commitment."

"I thought you were going to do Vera Wang?" Mia asked curiously, handing Chloe the cup of coffee.

Chloe accepted it and took a long, relishing drink before responding. "They were just the first to contact me about it. The others will make official offers once we make the public announcement in this month's issue."

"Why did Vera Wang offer so early?" Mia asked curiously.

"Chloe and Vera are friends, so the offer wasn't strictly business," Edward answered for Chloe, who had made it to one of the chairs at her bar and slumped into it.

"You're _friends_ with Vera Wang?" Mia asked incredulously.

Edward gave her a look and she blushed sheepishly. "Sorry. That's just…really cool," she said, unable to contain her awe.

"She's a lovely woman," Chloe said. "I always assumed if I ever got married, I would wear one of her dresses."

"But?"

"But, sometimes business comes first. It would be a really great move strategically for her to do an Oscar de la Renta gown," Edward explained. "Or of course, if we want to cause a stir, we could commission someone who's never done a wedding dress before. Makes for a sensation, and helps a new designer find the limelight."

"Oh."

Chloe rested her chin on her hand and observed Mia lightly. She was clearly biting her tongue. "What?" Chloe prompted, a little smile tugging on her mouth.

"It's just…I mean, it's your _wedding_," Mia protested. "It shouldn't be a business move!" She looked worried that she'd gone too far, but Chloe just smiled.

"I used to think that, too. But sometimes we just don't get that much of a say in our own lives," she sighed. "Everybody wants something," she added, looking down at her coffee cup idly. "And everybody needs something. And it's usually up to you to decide whose wants and needs are most important."

Mia heaved a sigh but didn't say anything.

Chloe had turned her attention to Edward. "So I'm set to go for tomorrow morning?" she asked.

He nodded. "All set."

"And the movers?"

"The movers will be here on Saturday, and Mia and I will have everything boxed up and labeled by then."

"Great," Chloe rubbed her forehead, trying not to cry about the fact that she was leaving her lovely apartment to go live with that ogre. "And Edward?"

"No matter how much they beg, plead, or connive, I will not let Vivian or Louise near your apartment to help with the move."

Chloe grinned weakly. "Thanks. How are the harpies doing lately?" she asked, glancing at Mia.

Edward smirked. "They're undergoing an internal struggle."

"Oh?"

"They can't decide whether to hate Mia more out of jealousy that she's so close to Oliver Queen, or to kiss up to her in hopes that they'll get gossip out of her. It's quite the battle of wills."

Chloe laughed, shaking her head in amusement. "All right," she said, glancing at her watch, "Edward, I believe you have a dinner with Darren to get to," she said, "and Mia, I'm probably violating labor laws by having you here this late."

"It's no problem," Mia said honestly. "I don't mind at all."

Chloe smiled at her. "And I appreciate it." She studied Mia thoughtfully, looking her over, taking in the pair of converse she was wearing that the soles were falling off of. "Edward?"

"Mmhmm?"

"When you're done with the move…take Mia shopping."

Edward looked like Christmas had come early. "My _pleasure._"

* * *

><p>"Pack enough?" Oliver asked the next morning, looking over Chloe's three suitcases.<p>

Chloe made a face at him. "Shut up. It's early." She was holding a thermos of coffee in her hand, and hiding her face behind a very large pair of sunglasses.

"Whatever," Oliver chuckled, pulling out the handle on the largest suitcase, with a smaller carry-on resting on top of it and wheeling it toward the door. "Let's get going."

"We're stopping at Starbucks on the way," Chloe informed him, following with the third suitcase.

He glanced back at her, raising an eyebrow at the thermos in her hand. "What's that, then? Gin?"

"This," she said, "is only going to last about ten minutes. If you want this to be a pleasant trip, I'm going to need a better supply than that."

Oliver shook his head, chuckling. "I wonder what would happen to you if you were deprived of coffee for a full 24 hours," he said thoughtfully, loading her bags in the trunk of his car.

She looked at him seriously. "_Pray_ you never find out."

He laughed lightly, slamming the trunk and walking around to hold the door open for her. He closed it then climbed into the driver's side, starting the engine and looking over at her. "You ready for this?" he asked.

She smiled grimly. "On with the show," she said, and Oliver pulled away, heading in the direction of San Francisco.

When they finally arrived at their hotel, Oliver was convinced it wasn't a moment too soon. It wasn't that they hadn't gotten along on the three hour drive. They'd done the usual amount of bickering and teasing, but it had been good natured.

No, he was relieved because she was driving him crazy for a whole new reason.

Chloe stood up out of the car and stretched her arms over her head, groaning, her fitted T-shirt rising a little. She looked at him and grinned. "Well that wasn't so bad, was it?" she said, dropping her arms.

She was doing this on purpose. There was no way she was unconscious of how practically pornographic just that groan had been.

First he'd had to deal with her orgasmic noises and expressions while drinking the coffee. Then it had been warm in the car, and she'd stripped out of her jacket, leaving her in that low-cut T-shirt that put a lot more than just skin on display. In the close space he'd been able to smell her perfume, hear each little sigh when she'd fallen asleep for almost an hour. That had been the worst part. In her sleep, she had been unguarded, expressions flickering across her face, small noises escaping her parted lips, breasts rising and falling with her steadied breathing.

Oliver had thought he was going to last a lot longer without sex. It had only been a week, and he was starting to get really horny. Maybe it was just the close quarters of the car ride that had done him in. They'd freshen up and he'd get his head back on straight and stop trying not to picture her naked.

"So what's the plan?" he asked her, ignoring her statement.

"Well, we have about about an hour before we need to change clothes," Chloe said, looking at her phone. "The wedding party is having lunch together. I'm meeting with Lois after that, so you'll have some downtime to do what you want, and we're all going out tonight to some club."

Oliver rubbed his hands together. "All right. You ready for this? Our first public outing?" he joked.

She smiled grimly. "Yeah. I think s—"

"OHMYGAWDCHLOEEEEE!" Lois, Dinah, and Barbara came streaking out of the hotel front doors and descended upon Chloe. It was immediately evident to Chloe that Lois and Dinah had already begun drinking for the day, even though it wasn't even noon yet. And it seemed like they hadn't had any probably sharing the love with 19-year-old Barbara.

Oliver backed a step away nervously while Chloe tried to decipher what everyone was saying to her at once.

"You have to come upstairs and have mimosas with us," Dinah finally managed to get in over all the chatter. "We have to catch up." She turned to Oliver and gave him a hug, kissing him on the cheek. "Ollie," she greeted. "The men are in the gym. Doing manly things."

Oliver laughed. "Great, well," he looked to Chloe. "I'll get us checked in, then," he said, noting that someone was already walking over to get their bags."

He headed into the hotel, and Chloe looked around for the missing bridesmaid. "Where's Diana?" she asked.

"She's not here yet. And Courtney will be here later in the afternoon."

"We non-21-year-olds are going to hang out in the hotel tonight," Barbara explained, referring to Courtney. "And probably rack up the room-service bills a little bit."

"Mmhmm," Lois nodded heavily, "and we're all going to get drunk," she finished.

Chloe laughed. "Glad to see you got a head-start on that," she teased, as Dinah and Lois and Courtney all linked arms with her and started ushering her upstairs to the hotel room. "Where's Katherine?" Chloe added, wondering what the bride-to-be was up to.

"She's having a last-minute meeting with the wedding-planner," Lois supplied. "She'll be going to the club tonight."

"Speaking of the bride," Dinah added, "is everything ready for the bachelorette party tomorrow night?"

Chloe nodded. "I brought the tiaras."

"And I brought the tutus," Lois confirmed.

"What exactly are you guys planning to do?" Barbara asked.

"That's not for your virginal, junior-bridesmaid ears," Lois said righteously.

Barbara snorted. All eyes turned to her.

"I'm sorry," Dinah said dramatically, "was something Lois just said _un_-true?"

Barbara suddenly turned crimson, and everyone squealed.

"Oh God, really?" Chloe asked. "Already?"

Dinah clucked her tongue. "What do you mean, 'already?' She's 19. She's old enough."

"And she and Dick have been going out since they were in the womb," Lois defended.

"Actually, just a year," Barbara said, raising an eyebrow at Lois, "but long enough," she added.

Chloe shook her head. "Stop it. Stop growing up. I can't deal with it anymore."

Barbara rolled her eyes, still blushing. She looked plaintively at Chloe, who promptly changed the subject for her.

"So where are these mimosas?" Chloe asked loudly. "I've been in a car all morning with a man. I need a drink."

* * *

><p>"Oliver, dude," AC greeted Oliver a little while later when Oliver walked into the hotel gym. "How are you?" he asked before returning to the leg presses he was doing.<p>

Oliver shrugged a shoulder. "Not bad." He walked over to the speed bag and tossing his duffel against the wall. He stooped over to get a role of tape out of it.

"Hey, congratulations, Oliver," Clark said, take a breath between bench presses. "I haven't had a chance to say it in person."

"Yeah, way to go," Bart said from the floor, where he was doing crunches.

It took Oliver a second to remember that Clark was referring to his engagement. "Right, yeah thanks," he said.

"So how'd it happen?" Bart grunted.

Oliver finished taping his hands and slipped on the pads. "Well…"

* * *

><p>"The day before was the big gala in Gotham—"<p>

"The one _you_ went to with Harvey Dent," Barbara said accusingly, passing Chloe a champagne flute.

"The _gorgeous _Harvey Dent," Lois added, generously pouring the champagne into Chloe's glass.

"Who you apparently only went out with to make Oliver jealous?" Dinah demanded, topping the champagne off with orange juice.

Chloe shrugged lightly.

* * *

><p>"What about Dent?" Clark asked. "I thought she went on a date or something with him the night before."<p>

Oliver shrugged sheepishly. "Yeah, well, we'd gotten into a little argument about where we were going with the relationship."

"She put the squeeze on you," Bart surmised.

* * *

><p>"Actually, Oliver was the one who wanted to go public. I was just so nervous about dealing with the media—I mean, I <em>work<em> in media. I know what it can be like for a couple as in the public eye as we are," Chloe explained.

"So what about Harvey?" Barbara pressured.

"Well, we'd sort of put things on hold for a week by then. And we were both going to Gotham—"

* * *

><p>"—but she was too stubborn to admit we should just go together and screw the press. So I asked Vera because it was getting to be last minute and I needed to go with <em>someone<em>."

* * *

><p>"So when Harvey called me up and asked me, I figured two could play at that game. After all, I had to go with <em>someone<em>."

"And?" Dinah asked eagerly.

Chloe smiled demurely. "Well, you know how territorial they get. He thought I was trying to make him jealous. I thought he was trying to make me jealous. We ended up getting into it almost as soon as we both got there."

* * *

><p>"So I finally put my foot down and said either she wanted a real relationship or she didn't."<p>

* * *

><p>"And the next night, he proposed. I couldn't believe it."<p>

* * *

><p>"She couldn't believe it. Looked at me like I'd gone out of my mind."<p>

* * *

><p>"Well I thought he'd gone completely crazy, but he said—"<p>

* * *

><p>"When it's real love, what's the point in waiting?" Oliver finished. AC, Clark, and Bart just stared at him.<p>

* * *

><p>Dinah, Lois, and Barbara were all looking at Chloe silently.<p>

"That," Dinah said, "has got to be the most romantic thing I've ever heard."

"It's so sweet," Barbara agreed. "I still can't believe how well you kept the secret."

"And you're so right for each other," Lois added.

Chloe forced her smile to stay in place.

"Aren't they?" Barbara agreed. "They balance each other out, don't they?"

Chloe frowned a little. "What do you mean?"

She shrugged, grabbing the orange juice and pouring a little for herself. "You know…just that Oliver can be such a child sometimes—"

"And you've always been a little too grown up for your own good," Dinah interjected.

Barbara nodded. "Exactly. He brings a little fun into your life and you bring a little maturity into his."

Lois nodded. "What the kid said," she approved, taking another drink.

Chloe pondered that for a moment, surprised by the assessment. She'd always wondered how her friends could possibly think she belonged with someone as different from her as Oliver was. Apparently they were going by the 'opposites attract' theory. The trouble with that theory, though, was that she and Oliver were _too_ different. There was no common ground at the end of the day. Attraction wasn't the same thing as compatibility.

"So what's he like in bed?" Dinah asked. "I've always wondered."

"Oh my God, Dinah, stop it." Chloe's eyes got wide, and she looked at Barbara in a panic.

"Oh please," Lois blew her off. "The kid's already admitted she's doing the dirty with her boyfriend. There's nothing you could possibly say that will shock her."

Barbara raised her hand. "I would like to disagree. There's _plenty_ that could shock me,"

"Never mind that," Lois waved her off again. "How is he?"

"I don't want to talk about it!" Chloe said. "That's—it's—that's personal!"

"I've always figured Ollie would be amazing in bed," Dinah sighed.

"Jeez, Dinah, aren't you married?" Chloe protested.

"That doesn't stop me from speculating. But you may rest assured that my sex life is _very_ fulfilling."

"Preach," Lois said, raising her glass in a toast.

"Okay, enough of that," Chloe stopped her from continuing any further down that particular road. She drained the dregs from her glass and stood up. "I'm going to go unpack my suitcase and get changed for lunch. You two," she pointed at Lois and Dinah, "need to sober up. Barbara," she looked at the youngest girl in the room. "You're in charge."

Barbara mock-saluted her and grinned. "You got it, Major Chloe."

Chloe left the champagne flute in the room and wandered down to the front desk, where she picked up her room key before heading upstairs.

She unlocked the room and found that Oliver had left her suitcases on the bed and his on the couch—indicative, she supposed. She opened the large one and pulled out a skirt and blouse for the lunch before pulling her T-shirt over her head. She pulled off the sweat pants she had on and reached for the skirt, her back to the door as she zipped it up.

…the door which presently swung open.

Chloe gasped and crossed her arms over her chest, spinning around to find Oliver and AC standing in her doorway.

In a blessing, AC's hand flew to his eyes, preventing him from witnessing Oliver's reaction of complete shock. He elbowed Oliver clumsily. "Sorry, man, I'll just look at it later," he said, referring to the new watch Oliver was going to show him. AC awkwardly backed out of the room, bumping into the door frame, closing the door behind him with a click.

Chloe threw her jeans at Oliver. "Stop staring!" she shouted at him.

He ducked nervously, breaking the spell. "Jeez! Sorry! Hey, what am I supposed to do? Look away? We're engaged, remember," he said winking roguishly at her. She threw a shoe at him as well, letting out a noise of anger. "Ooh! Get away, you pervert!" she said.

He laughed, heading for the bathroom. "Sure, sure. I'm going to shower." He paused, turning to look at her again. "Care to join me?" he asked with a suggestive grin.

She gasped and threw her other shoe, for once, hitting him square in the forehead.

"Guess not," he said, ducking into the bathroom and closing the door quickly behind him, in time to prevent her T-shirt from hitting him as well


	11. Chapter 11

**To My Oh-So-Patient Readers:**

**This is a very personal note so if you're just here for the story, feel free to move along and ignore me.**

**Hello, everyone. I'm sorry that it took so long to get this chapter out. As many of my followers on LJ and Twitter are aware, life has been a bit mad lately and I've been struggling to stay afloat. The good news is, I found an apartment so I will not be homeless at the end of the month. Also, moving will get me away from all the roommate drama that has been overshadowing my life lately.**

**Anyway, I just want to thank you guys for the show of support you gave me. It was an incredible thing to realize what a community I have become part of through this fandom, and I just want you to know that the kind words helped me rally myself on some of my worse days. In a world where internet and anonymity often bring out the worst in people, I hope you realize how remarkable you all are.  
><strong>

**All that said, I can't honestly tell you when I will next post. I don't know, but just like you, I hope it will be soon.  
><strong>

**Sincerely,  
>Blue<br>**

—11—

"I just have to say, I think you two make the cutest couple."

"Oh Katherine," Lois rolled her eyes. "You've said that to everyone here." They were all sitting around a table in a casual bar and grill restaurant, and Katherine was talking to Chloe and Oliver.

"She says that to everyone now," Victor explained. "Romantic bliss has blinded her to all flaws in the world,' he teased.

Katherine laughed at Lois's comment and then sighed. "Okay fair enough. But, Vic, you've got to admit those two look photo-shopped. With the blond hair and everything."

"Oh God, careful," Chloe retorted, grabbing her iced tea. "His head's big enough as it is."

Oliver laughed, and he was about to make a comment Chloe was sure would make her uncomfortable, but Barbara interrupted. She was sitting on his other side and squinting at his face. "Oliver, what's that on your forehead?" she asked, leaning a little closer.

Oliver's hand went to his forehead and a look of recognition flashed through his face. He turned to Chloe. "I don't know. What are they talking about, _honey_?" he asked her, his tone on the term of endearment telling her exactly what it was. Sure enough, as she looked closely, there was a very faint, very small bruise. Right where the heel of her shoe had hit him. Her eyes widened, but she recovered quickly.

"Oh you know, _dear_. It's from when you hit your head earlier. On the door. You've _got_ to start looking where you're going."

"Smooth, Ollie," AC laughed as Oliver sent a subtle dirty look Chloe's way.

"So what's the plan with work, Vic?" Dick asked casually, taking a bite out of a burger.

Victor shrugged. "Well there's an assistant coach who'll look after things while I'm gone," he explained. "And then I'll be back right before they have Thanksgiving Break."

"What do you do again, Victor?" Oliver asked, turning his attention from poking Chloe with his fork.

"I coach Met U's football team."

"Team looks like it's doing good this year," Clark commented. "New quarterback needs breaking in," he added.

Victor shrugged. "Yeah, well, it's not like he's you, is it?"

"Clark played for Met U," Lois explained for Oliver's benefit. "Best they ever had," she added a little proudly, slipping her hand in the crook of Clark's elbow. Clark smiled at her.

It was one of the beauties of their relationship, Chloe thought, watching them. Clark, in spite of his celebrity status as an athlete, was shy to a point of near bashfulness in talking about himself. It came down to good parenting. John and Martha Kent had raised their son to be modest and polite. And then there was Lois, who was more than happy to go marching up and down the street waving a giant Clark Kent banner. They balanced each other.

She glanced at Oliver out of the corner of her eye. How was it that everyone at this table had managed to find their perfect match and she was stuck here with this…photo-shopped _ego_.

Katherine's phone went off and she momentarily excused herself from the table, leaving everyone to discuss football. When she returned, she wore an exasperated expression.

"What's wrong?" Oliver, seeing her face first.

She shook her head. "The car never showed up at the airport to pick up my mother. She's stranded there." She glanced at her watch. "And we need to be at the church to meet with the reverend, Vic."

"Chloe and I will go get her," Lois volunteered immediately. "We were going to go to the hotel to catch up, but we can do it just as easily in the car."

Chloe nodded readily. "Absolutely. No problem at all."

Katherine looked relieved. "Thank you," she said sincerely. "Are you totally sure?"

"Of course," Lois said happily, Chloe already fishing in her purse for her keys.

"Do you want Oliver or I to go with you?" Clark offered before Oliver had a chance.

"I wouldn't mind," Oliver said easily, though secretly, he dreaded the idea of being trapped in a car with Chloe again, even with Lois as a buffer.

"Nah," Lois waved them off. "We need cousin time."

* * *

><p>In the car, Lois was checking things off on her phone and barely speaking, which, given who she was, was a bit of a surprise.<p>

"What are you doing?" Chloe asked curiously, eyes still on the road.

"Work."

"_Lois!"_ Chloe scolded.

Lois shrugged. "Look, Between planning the wedding and supporting Clark, it's been pretty tough to keep my edge. I am not about to let little-miss-are-you-pregnant get the drop on me just because I go out of town for the weekend," she said, punching buttons on her blackberry a little too viciously.

"Little Miss Who?" Chloe asked curiously, humor on her face.

"Cat-freaking-princess-Grant. The little sweater-set personified saw my engagement ring and the first question she asked was if Clark had gotten me knocked up," Lois growled.

Chloe laughed. "Wow. Classy."

"Isn't she just?" Lois deadpanned.

"Giving you a little competition at work, is she?"

"Please." Lois scoffed. "Competition? Her? She wouldn't know news if it walked up to her and offered her a plate of cookies."

Chloe raised an eyebrow. "Mmhmm. And is that way you're trying to crush your blackberry in a death grip right now?" she teased.

Lois rolled her eyes. "Fine. She keeps trying to outshine me. Not that it's working, but I can't afford to let her get the drop on me. Anyway, sometimes it gets tough with how busy Clark and I are, especially with his career. But I'm sure you can relate," she added.

"What? Oh. Yeah, of course." Chloe shook herself. For just a moment she had forgotten she was fake-engaged.

Lois seemed to be building herself up to something for a moment—which was never a good sign—and finally decided to preface herself. "Can I ask you something I know you don't want to talk about?"

Chloe glanced at Lois suspiciously out of the corner of her eye. "Sure," she said cautiously.

"What did Oliver say when you told him about…well, y'know?"

Chloe frowned, bemused. "Told him about what?"

Lois shifted, a bit uncomfortable. "Well, your…_past_."

This time Chloe raised her eyebrow and actually looked at Lois as she took an exit ramp to the airport. "Past as what?" she asked. "My former life as a hooker?"

Lois rolled her eyes. "Of course not. I mean what happened with…your exes."

Chloe grew very quiet as she realized what Lois was talking about. "I haven't told him," she said curtly, not interested in discussing the subject.

Lois narrowed her eyes. "He should know, Chloe."

"There's absolutely no reason why he should know."

"He's your fiance, and you ought to—"

"Lois, it's my life. Oliver knows that I've had a couple of boyfriends and I know that he's had a couple of girlfriends. I'm not going to pry into his past relationships, and I don't see any valid reason why I have to throw my baggage at him."

"_Chloe_," Lois scolded, shocked for once in her life. "He's your fiance. You're supposed to be honest with him. He's supposed to help take your baggage and your supposed to help take his. That's what love is about. I…are you sure you two are ready to get married?" she said suddenly.

Chloe's heart throbbed. She opened her mouth to say something and closed it. This was exactly what they wanted. She was supposed to be encouraging the notion that she and Oliver weren't right for each other. And she couldn't have created a better opportunity to prove it to Lois if she tried.

But she couldn't do it. It wasn't because she suddenly felt some attachment to Oliver. It was her. It was…all the pain that was suddenly welling up inside of her.

Even though she couldn't consciously acknowledge it, let alone explain it to Lois, the trouble was admitting the real reason she didn't make time for dating. She was still hurting on some level, still recovering from the way she had been treated in the past, and she didn't trust men. And she just couldn't bring herself to accept that she couldn't have a healthy relationship like anyone else.

So rather than arguing with Lois to prove that she and Oliver didn't belong together like everyone seemed to think, and rather than agreeing to work on her fake relationship, Chloe said nothing, and they finished the drive to the airport in silence.

* * *

><p>"Hey Queen. I need to talk to you."<p>

Oliver gulped as he spotted Lois walking down the hotel hallway toward him. "Problem, Lois?"

She looked grim and determined, which made him admittedly nervous. Any man with a sense of self-preservation would be nervous with Lois Lane giving him that look. She walked right up to him and folded her arms. "You need to talk to Chloe about her ex-boyfriends," she said in one breath.

"I…what?" he asked, honestly confused, backing away from her a step for precaution's sake.

Lois lifted her eyes to the ceiling. "I can't tell you about it. It's none of my business—"

Oliver had a strong suspicion that it was extremely painful for Lois to say those words.

"—but it's important." She lowered her eyes to meet his. "She's my baby cousin and I trust you with her, which is really saying something."

He shifted guiltily, but Lois was too much on a mission to notice, and he couldn't help but see that she was visibly distressed about this.

"She just…Chloe's got a past, okay, and I think she's been trying to hide it from you because she's ashamed of it or she's afraid of what you'll think or…I don't know. The point is, you need to make it clear to her that…that—" She stopped herself and shook her head. "Not my business," she muttered. "Just…try to get her to open up to you about it, okay? Because unless she does, you two aren't ready to get married, okay?"

Oliver raised his eyebrows. Whatever this was, it was serious, and he couldn't imagine what would have Lois so distraught, or what could possibly be in Chloe Sullivan's past that was cause for so much angst. Before he could respond to Lois, though, Clark appeared at the end of the hall.

"There you are, Lois," he said, spotting his fiance talking to Oliver. "I was just wondering what happened to you. Oliver," he added, by way of greeting. "You guys ready to go?" he asked.

"Just about, Smallville," Lois smiled, pushing her concerns away when she saw Clark. Or were they melting away? Oliver wondered briefly, seeing the way Lois's body genuinely relaxed as she unbuttoned the top button of Clark's shirt and fixed his collar for him. For a moment he felt a small flicker of envy for what Lois and Clark clearly had with each other.

"Where's Chloe?" Clark asked.

"She was just—"

"Present!" Chloe offered, exiting the hotel room and appearing beside Oliver. Oliver's eyebrows went up. She was wearing tight jeans and knock-out silver heels with a black silk halter top that had no back to it.

_Is she not wearing a bra? _he thought, his throat constricting slightly. "You look great," he said. "Really great." _ It probably wasn't necessary to add the second part._

Chloe flushed at his statement and crossed her arms. "Thanks," she smiled awkwardly before apologizing for being late to the group. "So where's everyone else?"

Lois checked her phone. "I think everyone who's going is downstairs."

Oliver couldn't help but notice that Chloe wasn't meeting his eyes as they headed downstairs. Was it something to do with what Lois had said? He found that it vaguely bothered him that she was hiding something important from him. It shouldn't. After all, they didn't owe each other anything. It wasn't as thought they were really engaged or anything. She was entitled to her secrets. But she had become much incredibly interesting to him now. He found it difficult to imagine that any man could do much damage to the emotional fortress that was Chloe Sullivan. So whatever had happened must have been a big deal.

The group that left for the Club that night excluded Bart and Courtney as well as Dick and Barbara, who weren't old enough to get in. Bart had insisted that they could easily use fake IDs, but Chloe and Katherine had both shot down that plan immediately. Particularly as Barbara was the daughter of a police commissioner. Katherine and Chloe weren't about to explain to Jim Gordon why their daughter had been caught sneaking into a 21 and up club.

Dinah and Bruce wouldn't arrive until first thing in the morning, so instead the group was composed of Chloe and Oliver, Lois and Clark, Dinah and AC, and of course, Katherine and Victor, though the last pair insisted that they would be going home early, as they still had a lot to do the next day.

Chloe allowed herself a moment to acclimate herself to the club when they arrived. No matter who she had become compared to her high school counterpart, clubs would never really be her scene. The throbbing music, the flashing lights, the hot bodies packed together…it was an epileptic fit waiting to happen.

But as Lois handed her a shot before dragging her onto the dance floor, she couldn't help loosening up and allowing herself to get into the music, as she and Dinah and Lois danced together for a while. The men joined them and she felt Oliver's hand on her arm. She looked at him in surprise as he handed her another drink. The music was too loud to talk over, but his intention was clear in his eyes.

_We have to sell it_, Chloe thought, glancing at the others. Dinah was holding onto AC's shoulders as she tried to shout something in his ear. Lois was giving Clark a coy look as she tried to get him to loosen up his dancing—an ongoing battle. Katherine and Victor were dancing and completely oblivious to their surroundings.

Oliver gave her a reassuring grin as he clinked shot glasses with her and they both downed something peppermint flavored. The motion was reminiscent of the night she had spent at his apartment with the bottle of vodka, and for a brief moment she was glad that if she was doing something so completely screwed up, she was doing it with someone like Oliver. He took her shot glass from her and dropped the pair on the bar before draping a hand across her hip and pulling her back flush with his chest as if they'd done it a hundred times.

_Because we have to look like we have_, Chloe reminded herself as she felt her adrenaline pick up from the intimacy. Somehow it was different from the occasional stranger she met on a night out, or dancing a slow waltz with with Harvey Dent. She was beginning to think of Oliver as a friend on some level, however much she didn't like to admit it, and having a friend hold her the way Oliver currently was…it was making her pulse quicken. It was _too _intimate.

_But not bad_, the thought flickered unbidden through her mind. She'd blame it on the alcohol, but she wasn't even on a buzz yet. Maybe it was true that men were visual and women were tactile. Because his the back of his fingertips skimming up her arm was causing her to shudder and the way her body curved to his felt unbearably good. For all the trouble men brought, this sort of thing was nice, being held and touched and made to feel like an object of desire. Her stomach flipped as his his fingers tightened on her stomach a little bit in response to the music. She leaned her head back against his shoulder, turning her cheek so he couldn't see her face. But she got a whiff of his cologne as she did so, and closed her eyes. God, he smelled so good.

She wondered what he was thinking about as the bass of the music pulsed through them. Imagining she was someone else? Thinking what a good laugh it was that they could be so convincing? Suddenly she realized she didn't want to know his thoughts at the moment. It was better to let the music drown them out. Instead she pretended that they weren't putting on a show, that he was someone she actually knew and trusted and even wanted. She bit her lip as she felt a dull ache forming somewhere inside her, irrationally wishing he would soothe a sudden desire to feel his lips pressed to her shoulder and collar bone. Never mind how he would react if he knew what she was thinking.

She had no way of knowing that Oliver's mind was actually more pleasantly engaged than she realized. He had never been in the habit of over-thinking something as basic as a man and a woman touching. It was pleasurable and he was good at it. And he was enjoying the possibility that Chloe Sullivan might actually be human. It was more than just getting to know her or finding out that there was a lot going on beneath the cool, calculated surface. It was the simple notion that maybe she responded to men just like any other woman, once you could get through all the protective barriers, anyway. Without realizing he'd decided to do it, he found he was on a mission to discover where her buttons were and how to press them. What sort of touch made her sigh? Close her eyes? Press against him? Change the rhythm of her dancing? He forced himself to resist a temptation to skim his lips across her bare shoulder—an action she would surely make him pay for later.

He succumbed to the desire later in the night when they'd both had a lot more to drink, and the shudder that coursed through her body was the perfect reward. He pressed his face into her hair and inhaled a spicy, citrus scent that made his grip on her tighten considerably. _What_, his tequila-addled brain wondered, _would Chloe Sullivan be like in bed?_ Before this evening he might have thought she would be controlling and straight-laced, but experiencing the way she allowed him to manipulate her while dancing, he suspected there would be so much more to it than that. She was a complex woman and while she might have a controlling streak, he suspected that she wanted to relinquish that, to let someone else be in charge once in a while. There just wasn't anyone she trusted enough to do that. He briefly thought of what Lois had said earlier that evening, that she was hiding something. It might even be healthy for her to learn to trust someone.

It was really too bad she'd made the rule for no sex, he considered absently, moving a hand dangerously over her thigh, feeling the muscles beneath his palm tighten in response. After all, sex didn't have to mean anything. It could be primal, instinctual, about exploring mutual desires. It would certainly add a new level of fun to their little charade. He wondered how difficult it would be to persuade her to forget her rule. After all, they were two consenting adults. As long as they were pretending to be engaged, why shouldn't they enjoy one another's company?

But instinctually he knew that wouldn't be the approach that persuade her. In an argument of logic, she would beat him down every time, if only through stubbornness.

No, it would have to be like this, like dancing. She would have to succumb to what she felt over what she thought.

And suddenly it was a new challenge, and he didn't know when he'd made the cross from thinking about it in the abstract to intending to actually try it, but he wanted to know if he could seduce Chloe Sullivan


	12. Chapter 12

—12—

Chloe shivered and rolled over in bed, her head pulsing a little uncomfortably. It was cold, but his body moved behind her and draped an arm across her stomach, and she sank back into his warmth.

Wait. What?

Her eyes flew open in a panic and she gasped when she saw an actual arm wrapped around her. "Oh my God!" she cried out, scrambling from the bed and practically tumbling onto the floor. Her head spun and she clutched the night stand as she stared at the naked upper torso of Oliver Queen.

Oliver groaned and rubbed his hands over his face as Chloe desperately started searching her suitcase until she discovered several brown paper bags in the front zipper pocket. She yanked one out and started inhaling and exhaling into it.

"Are you hyperventelating? Seriously?" Oliver asked, his head turned to look at her from the pillow.

"What are you doing in the bed?" she demanded as Oliver pushed himself into a sitting position.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "You don't remember?"

"No! What happened? We didn't…oh God, say we didn't."

He smirked at her. He looked a little worse for wear, but he evidently wasn't exceptionally hungover. "Didn't what?" he asked, looking far more amused than he should.

She opened and closed her mouth twice before she began breathing into the paper bag again.

Oliver chuckled. "Relax. Think. You weren't that drunk. You should still remember."

Chloe attempted to calm down while straining her memory to the night before, coming home from the club, Oliver half carrying her, she was so tipsy from the tequila. The air conditioning was broken—stuck on the highest setting—and the room was freezing.

"Coming back to you?" he asked, clearly enjoying himself.

She breathed a deep sigh of relief. "I can't believe you were complaining about being cold like such a baby!" she accused.

"Me!" he said incredulously. "Are you kidding? You were the one stubbornly shivering away, determined not to admit you were cold. I did you a favor."

Chloe grunted. "You have no self-control."

He laughed outright. "On the contrary, I think I have an exceptional amount of self control, considering I even slept on top of the sheet for you." He lifted the lopsided comforter on the bed to show her. "Now admit it," he said, lying back and folding his hands behind his head, as if to put his physique on display for her, "best night's sleep you ever had, wasn't it?"

Chloe was eyeing his well defined abs skeptically, and only clucked her tongue. "Just keep your hands to yourself in the future," she snipped, heading into the bathroom. She needed some water to cure her dehydration. And then coffee. Lots of coffee. Enough coffee to forget about those abs.

Oliver chuckled to himself over her obvious discomfort before picking up the phone to order some room service, including a large pot of coffee. She was going to need it.

* * *

><p>The weekend was going by at a whirlwind pace, with the wedding rehearsal blending into the rehearsal dinner seamlessly. The bachelor and bachelorette parties were organized to "avoid any contact" with one another, at the stipulation of Dinah and Lois, who were making sure that everyone had the best time possible. When Chloe stumbled back into the room that night, the air conditioning unit still hadn't been fixed, but she was too drunk to notice. Oliver crashed through the door a little while later and found her sprawled out on the bed, wearing a tutu and a lopsided rhinestone tiara nested in her hair. She lifted her head slightly to look at him. "Women are crazy," she said with a mild slur.<p>

Oliver, though drunk, was not as far gone as Chloe, and he was perfectly aware that the room felt like a small ice continent. "What the hell?" he demanded clumsily, toeing off his shoes. "It's _freezing_ in here."

Chloe, who had goosebumps, shook her head. "_Ohhh _no. I'm not falling for that again. You might be a human furnace, but you will just have to hand over the blankets, _bub_, because this lady is maintaining her _honor." _She rolled onto her stomach and gave him what was meant to be a stern look, wagging her finger at him.

"I'm calling the manager of the hotel," Oliver sighed, trying to focus his eyesight long enough to figure out where the phone was. Between exhaustion and a lot of booze, he was starting to see double.

"No!" Chloe panicked. "No more managers!" She tried to get off the bed to stop him, but only succeeded in making it to her hands and knees at the edge of the mattress before wobbling dangerously.

"Whoa," Oliver said, holding her steady as best as he could and pushing her back down. "Okay, okay. No more managers. What did they do to you_?_"

"_Every_ time the manager of the bar came out, they gave us _another_ round of shots free. And every time I tried to say no, Lois said yes for me," she finished feebly, flopping back down into the pillows. "And when she wasn't saying yes for me, Dinah was. Or Katherine was. Women. Are. Crazy. So much dancing on bars," she added with a moan, throwing her arm across her eyes in agony.

It was a sign of how drunk Oliver was that he was more concerned with figuring out the alarm clock than with picturing Chloe dancing on a bar top. They had to get up in the morning, he reminded himself. It was absolutely vital that they be awake in time to prep for the wedding. Though Oliver wasn't in the wedding party himself, he knew Chloe had to be up at a bright and shiny hour to aid Katherine. After some frustration, he gave up, and ignoring Chloe's confused protests, picked up the phone to request a wake up call.

It was after he hung up that something interesting happened. In retrospect, he blamed it on the childish tutu and tiara she was wearing. He wasn't entirely sure what was causing his rapidly changing sentiments regarding Chloe, though clearly alcohol was aiding the problem. Last night his only thoughts had been how to seduce her. And tonight…after the bachelor party, well, his male urges were certainly making themselves known, to put it delicately. He wanted it badly, and she was the easiest target, but when he glanced down at her on the bed, his next thoughts weren't how to get in her pants. They were about how small and innocent she looked, like she needed protection. He had a wild urge to crawl up next to her and shield her from the cold. Instead, he took the tiara off her head and set on the nightstand. Then he grabbed her hands and pulled her forward off the bed until she was standing. Chloe was staring at him with a confused expression as he hooked his thumbs in the tutu and sank to his knees, slowly pulling the garment down to her feet. Her breath stuck slightly while his thumbs grazed the side of her legs, from hip to ankle. She held herself steady on the bed as he helped her lift first one foot, then the other out of the tutu. He stood again, and, facing her, he leaned closer, but only to reach behind her and pull down the covers for her. Then he threw her arm around his neck and smoothly hooked one arm under her legs, lifting her into the bed. There was a brief moment where he leaned over her, steadying himself long enough to remember what he was going to do next, but her eyes were distracting him, both Chloe and Oliver breathing heavily as they looked at each other, until he grabbed the covers in his hands and pulled them up over her.

He shook himself as he straightened up and fumbled toward the thermostat, finally giving up and shutting the whole thing off. And then he dragged himself over to the sofa, collapsing exhaustedly on top of it, his liquor-addled brain sinking into sleep almost instantly upon hitting the pillows.

"So I heard you were dancing on bar tops last night," Oliver said cheekily over his scrambled eggs the next morning.

Chloe looked up at him, and he didn't need to see past the dark sunglasses she was wearing to know she was shooting him daggers with her eyes. She'd already been sick twice since waking up that morning, and had been looking quite peaky until about ten minutes ago when a proper breakfast and lots of water started to take their effect on her. "I hate you."

"Darling!" Oliver gasped, clutching his wounded heart. "Don't let the others hear you! They'll think our relationship is in trouble!"

Fortunately, before Chloe could hit him, Barbara appeared, sporting a look of anxiety. "Katherine's having a meltdown. We need you. Morning, Oliver," she added, snagging a bite of Chloe's toast and jam.

"Good morning," Oliver said cheerily.

Chloe moaned miserably. "Why me?"

"Because you're the sensible one. Would _you _take Lois or Dinah's advice when you're in a panic?" Barbara joked.

"Aren't _you_ sensible, too?" she asked Barbara.

Barbara lifted a shoulder lightly and let it fall. "I'm young and inexperienced, and therefore not to be trusted. Courtney's young and foolish, so same rules apply." She smiled. "Come on, we'll go talk Katherine down and then I'll help you get dressed."

Chloe sighed. She shoveled the last couple of bites of eggs down and drained her water. Feeling a little better now, she told Oliver she'd see him later and left with Barbara.

They found Katherine in her room, in a robe, crying on the edge of the bed.

"I can't do it! It's no use, Chloe!"

Diana, Lois, Courtney, and Dinah were all standing in various corners of the room. Apparently they'd been in the process of helping Katherine with her hair and had been banished.

Forgetting completely that she was supposed to be hungover and miserable, Chloe rushed to Katherine's aid. Katherine was now hiccup-ing hopelessly and Chloe took her hands and squeezed them encouragingly. "It's okay, Katherine. No one's going to make you do anything. Now what's wrong."

"I just…I woke up this morning and I looked at my dress and it was just…_wrong_. It's completely wrong. And then I thought, my _God!_ I scheduled a DJ for the reception. I should have had live music! And then I realized the whole wedding is just _wrong! _ I mean, silver?! What was I thinking, Chloe? No one looks good in silver! None of you guys look good in silver—except Diana, but she looks good in everything—"

The girls all chuckled nervously.

"—and the whole thing is too modern! My mother was right! I should have made it traditional! We should be in a church with roses and freaking violins and what the hell was I thinking? I can't get _married!_ This is _forever_ we're talking about! And I mean what the hell does he want with _me_? He's like this perfect guy and I'm always a mess!"

"Katherine, Katherine," Chloe stopped her, squeezing her hands again. "Slow down. First of all, _you_ are exquisite. You're timeless. You have a completely beautiful wedding planned and I happen to know because I helped plan it and your mother didn't. And you know what else? You have the love of a man named Victor, a man who, while you were talking to your family last night said, 'I can't believe she picked me. I can't believe I'm marrying the most incredible woman I've ever met.' And that tells me that this marriage of yours is not only going to work, it's gonna last forever."

There was complete silence as Katherine and Chloe stared at each other, friendship and support gushing between them. And then finally the silence broke as Katherine laughed through her tears, "Did you just steal the speech from _The Wedding Planner_?"

Chloe laughed back. "Actually I paraphrased. Did it work?"

Katherine just chuckled as she nodded her head, then took a deep, shaky breath. "It's a good speech."

"And it totally applies," Chloe told her bracingly.

The tension in the room was quickly diminishing now that Katherine was smiling. "You're right. I'm being crazy. This is ridiculous."

"Good, because I'm not gonna lie, Katherine. I'm totally hung over from last night and I really need to go take an antacid if you want me to be chipper for this evening."

Katherine laughed again and Diana approached. "Can I finish doing your hair now?" Chloe could tell Diana was doing her best not to eye the clock, but time was definitely ticking away.

"Yes, thanks, Di," Katherine said shakily, sniffing a little but clearly pulling herself back together.

The rest of the girls left to start getting dressed themselves, and Chloe chuckled when she heard Lois mutter to Dinah, "I _knew_ she picked silver because none of you looks good in it."

She reached her own hotel room and was fishing in her bag through various little baggies neatly labeled 'Aspirin,' 'Tylenol,' 'Pepto Bismol,' etc.

"Edward," she muttered, emptying the little plastic bag of Tums, "you are my hero."

* * *

><p>By the time the wedding had actually rolled around, Chloe was feeling much more herself. <em>I'll be glad to see the back of this wedding<em>, Chloe thought, indulging a brief moment of selfishness. _All this taking off work, partying late, being hung over…enough is enough. _ She was missing her structured life, and the stress of the wedding combined with the constant discomfort of being around Oliver was wearing her down.

She was just thinking how glad she'd be when the drive home was over and she could get some space from Oliver when she realized she wasn't going home. She was going to Oliver's place. Edward and Mia would have overseen the moving crew through delivering her things. She wondered briefly how Oliver felt about having his home invaded by her and her belongings. She frowned. _He's been dealing with all of this way better than me so far. Then again maybe all his teasing and mocking is how he vents frustration._

Tired of dwelling on how much Oliver loved making her uncomfortable, Chloe attempted to turn her thoughts to pleasanter matters like Katherine's magnificently edgy taste. The wedding was being held in the hotel's ballroom, with splendid, modern chandeliers dropping from the ceiling (undoubtedly the reason Katherine had selected the venue), and it had been done over in a wash of silver. Everything was gleaming silver with smooth, clean lines, right down to Katherine's shimmering tiara and bouquet of silver and crystal broaches. But she had managed to turn a theme her mother had feared would be cold and tacky into something elegant and utterly unique.

Unlike Dinah and Arthur's casual beach wedding, Kat and Vic's was in a ballroom for a reason. The men were wearing tuxes with silver vests and ties (except Victor's, which was stark white), and the women were draped in floor length silver charmeuse, their matching dresses a one-shoulder strap with an elegant scarf draped down their bare backs.

But no one, Chloe thought, as she lined up outside the hall beside Clark, looked quite as extraordinary as Katherine. She wore a princess-style ball gown, dripping with shimmering crystals at the hem. From the floor up, the crystals dispersed and gave way to the clean white chiffon of the skirt. Her bodice was crystal-free—which made the gleaming broach-bouquet that much more pronounced. The neckline was smooth and level with her off-the-shoulder sleeves. It was modern and timeless at the same time.

Thinking how strikingly the white of the gown set off Katherine's dark beauty, Chloe swallowed a lump in her throat. _Another friend down_, she thought before she could stop herself. First Dinah and now Kat. And it would continue until all of her loved ones had been picked off one by one. Tears formed in her eyes.

"Here," Clark whispered kindly. He was holding out a clean white handkerchief.

Chloe accepted the handkerchief gratefully and dabbed her eyes before her silly emotions could ruin her makeup. "How did you know?"

Clark grinned. "Oliver said you might need it."

She was taken aback but didn't have time to say anything else as the wedding planner signaled them for quiet so they could open the doors. Each couple walked down the lengthy aisle at the appropriate time, and Clark gave her hand a quick squeeze when she delicately placed it on his proffered arm. They stepped lightly toward the front of the room where the minister stood, and Chloe saw Oliver watching her from the end of one of the rows. He spotted the handkerchief in her hands and smiled in a satisfied way. She would have dropped the handkerchief on the spot just to punish him for his smugness if she weren't certain she was going to need it again.

_Damn weddings_, she thought bitterly.

Everyone in the congregation had given little admiring sighs when Chloe and Clark walked down the aisle behind Diana, the maid-of-honor, and Aaron, the co-coach of the Metropolis University football team and Victor's best man. The junior bridesmaids, Barbara and Courtney followed behind them, accompanied by their escorts Dick and Victor's cousin Michael respectively. But when Katherine walked down the aisle, not a single person didn't catch his breath.

Although she remained quite self-conscious, Chloe wasn't the only person to get emotional during the wedding. Barbara had tears rolling down her cheeks, and Katherine's mother was crying openly during the entire ceremony. Victor had tears in his eyes. And the one time Chloe stole a look at Oliver, she swore she saw him loosen his tie slightly, as though his throat felt constricted.

* * *

><p>"Aren't you going up there?" Oliver's lips were in her ear and Chloe jumped. He'd snuck up on her. The DJ had just called for all the unmarried women to go up for the bouquet toss.<p>

"Oh no," she said seriously. "Fool me once…."

Oliver laughed, handing her a cocktail and sitting down beside her. "I don't blame you. Not after what happened last time. So how are you holding up? Did mine eyes deceive me or was the ice queen thawing during that service?" he elbowed her.

Chloe's eyes were on Katherine, who was waving the bouquet over her head and winking at her maid-of-honor. "I'm fine. You?"

"Doing all right. I think the hard part is over. We still need to figure out how long we're going to keep this going."

Chloe stomach flipped as she thought of their imminent break-up. They still hadn't come up with a good reason for it. Although they discussed the possibility of their work conflicts meaning they "didn't have enough time for one another," which Chloe thought was quite believable as she was known for putting her job before her relationships and Oliver was notorious for missing important occasions because work pulled him around the globe. The timing was the trick, though. How soon was too soon? And how late was pushing things too far? There was plenty of time to figure it out, though.

"Let's don't worry about it right now," Chloe sighed. "I just want to enjoy the end of this wedding and get back to Star City and return to whatever's left of my everyday life."

"I'll drink to that," Oliver grinned, clinking glasses with hers and taking a long sip.  
>Courtney was now clutching the bouquet in her hands grinning at everyone.<p>

"Ten bucks says no one tries to shove a garter up _her_ leg," Chloe said, evidently disgruntled.

Oliver laughed. "We'll see."

She was right. Although Dick was required to dance with Courtney in a slow dance, which eventually included the bride and groom themselves and was then extended to "All the happy couples out there." Bart cut in to dance with Courtney, freeing up Dick to dance with Barbara. Chloe sighed. "I think that's our cue."

Oliver followed her gaze. Lois was slowly revolving on the dance floor with Clark, but her own romantic bliss was not enough to stop her from beckoning to Chloe over her fiance's shoulder. Oliver chuckled. "Naturally." He stood up and offered Chloe his hand.

Looking at it, Chloe's mind flashed back to dancing with Oliver in the club, and how overwhelmingly sensual it had been. What with all the innuendo lately, waking up in bed with him and being caught in a state of undress…Chloe's hormones had been raging all weekend. Oliver was presenting himself as an unfortunate target for her long-stifled sexual desires. Reluctantly, she put her hand in his and received a small jolt from the contact, somehow much more intimate after everything they'd been through together now.

On the dance floor he pulled her surprisingly close, wrapping a tight arm around her waist and lacing fingers with her. When she raised an eyebrow, he brought his lips to her ear again. She shivered. She wished he would stop doing that. "Just putting on a good show," he whispered.

_Well two can play at that game_, Chloe thought, and she leaned her head against his chest, closing what little space was left between them.

Oliver swallowed uncomfortably. She was good at this.


	13. Chapter 13

—13—

Chloe was valiantly trying not to show how much she didn't want to be there. _After all, _she told herself sternly. _This has to be way worse for Oliver, having me invade his home like this._

Oliver, meanwhile, was valiantly trying not to show how much he didn't want her there. _After all,_ he thought firmly, _it has to be much worse for her, not to be able to go home to her own bed._

Oliver flipped on the lights and they both hesitated for a moment.

"Wow."

"Edward and Mia did a good job," Chloe said.

"Yeah. They did."

Oliver's apartment was still distinctly recognizable as his, in spite of his visions on the drive home of an apartment filled with frills and floral prints. But it had softened. Chloe had been right when she said it was devoid of clutter, but a few orange and yellow throw pillows and a chocolate brown throw blanket had softened his living room. By the entertainment system, they had fished out a few of his family photos and framed them and arranged them neatly with photos of Chloe and her family. In the center, they had added a large print of one of the nicer of Chloe and Oliver's press photos together and framed it. For a moment even they had to admit they made a good couple just looking at it.

On the fridge was a list with three columns, written in Mia's neat, spiky handwriting. On the left was various to-do items and messages for Oliver, on the right for Chloe, and in the middle their names were coupled together with various items beneath that as well. Apparently Oliver's mother was expecting them both for dinner the next night and various wedding planners and designers wanted to discuss ideas with them. Chloe sighed, pulling the list off the fridge for further review while Oliver explored the rest of the apartment. In his workout room, a treadmill had been added to a corner. His office was relatively untouched, but there were some chocolate taffeta drapes over the window that he had to admit warmed the place up nicely, and on the desk there was a small framed photo of Chloe grinning like she'd been caught by surprise. He picked it up briefly to exam before moving on. He wondered briefly what Chloe would do about a work space while she was here. The largest noticeable difference so far was in the bathroom, where a second, lime green toothbrush was sitting in the cup next to his and various other female products—curlers, hair products, moisturizers, lipsticks—had been added beside his at the double sink.

He found Chloe in the bedroom trying not to laugh. "Wh—oh jeez." Oliver chuckled. His bed looked more or less the same, except a soft green throw-blanket that had been tossed over it. The covers were turned down. Several unlit candles had been added around the room and he saw through the open door that Chloe's clothes had made their way into his closet and her jewelry was on display at his dresser. The thing CHloe was laughing at, however, presented itself almost immediately.

Clearly as a joke, a matching set of pajamas had been left on the bed: a pair of long silk pants with red hearts all over them and a white T-shirt for Oliver and a matching button down shirt that would probably come down to Chloe's mid-thigh.

"This has Mia written all over it," Oliver laughed.

"Oh, I don't know," Chloe said, still giggling, "Edward would have found this hilarious."

"By the way all your stuff is in the bathroom. We'll have to move it to the guest room."

Chloe bit her lip. "Yeah, I was thinking about that when I found my clothes in your closet. I don't think we _can_ move any of it."

Oliver frowned.

"Don't you think it will look weird if someone comes by and wants to use the second bathroom and they find all my belongings in there? I mean obviously I'll sleep in there, but we're going to have to make it look like I'm staying in your room."

Oliver sighed and ruffled his hair tiredly. "I guess so. Go ahead and grab whatever you need. I think I'm going to hold off and shower in the morning. I'm too tired. Anyway, make yourself at home. Help yourself to whatever's in the kitchen"

Chloe nodded absently, grabbing her part of the gag engagement gift and heading toward the door. "Thanks."

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Are you actually going to sleep in that?"

She grinned at him and winked from his bedroom doorway. "Aren't you?"

* * *

><p>The next morning found Oliver going through his morning routine and workout at a bright and early hour. At some point he was aware of hearing the shower in the guest bathroom, meaning his new roommate was up. Half an hour later he was in the middle of a sun salutation when something threw his concentration. A smell that could only be described as sumptuous reached him and he opened one eye pausing in his cobra pose, trying to decide what it was.<p>

And then he realized. It was _food_. Coffee and bacon.

He abandoned his routine and padded down the short hallway toward the kitchen, forgetting that he was going to shower once he was done with his workout. Sure enough, there was Chloe bustling about his kitchen, mug of coffee in hand as she stirred pancake batter in a small mixing bowl. She was dressed and ready for the day, hair curled and her dress protected by a dishtowel she'd tied around her waist. It was odd. The only morning interaction he'd had with her was usually when she'd been woken up before she was mentally ready. He hadn't expected…this.

She looked up when she heard him enter and beamed. "I know you don't drink coffee, but I made some extra just in case. I noticed that you bought cream for me, too. Thank you. Pancakes?" she asked. "I'm making plenty."

"You're…cooking," was all he could say.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Yeees," she replied slowly.

"I just…you didn't strike me as the cooking type."

She laughed. "I cook a little bit. Kind of. Mostly breakfast food. And things that are frozen and can be microwaved in under ten minutes."

He chuckled. "I see why you don't have a boyfriend after all," he said, "Didn't you know the way to our hearts is through our stomachs?"

Chloe laughed but fastened him with a glare. "Hey. Don't think I can't eat all of these pancakes by myself." In truth, though, she would have been stung if he'd passed. The breakfast was her small way of thanking him for welcoming her into his home.

In response, Oliver snatched one of the pancakes from the top of the stack she was forming and took a bite out of it straight from his hand.

* * *

><p>"—so don't forget that you're joining your fiance for dinner with his parent's tonight, so you'll want to leave the office early to get ready."<p>

They were stepping out of the elevator at work and Edward was just finishing up their briefing. Chloe rolled her eyes and let out a grunt of distaste. Edward chuckled.

"Get used to it, darling. It's called having a life."

"Oh _that's _why I've avoided having one all these years," Chloe said sarcastically. She was just settling into her desk chair when another thought occurred to her. "By the way, how did the shopping trip go with Mia?"

It was apparent from his smug expression that Edward had been waiting for this exact question. "It was a nightmare. I've never met anyone so determined not to wear designer clothes. I had to fight with her tooth and nail the whole way."

Chloe leaned back in her desk chair and folded her arms, eyebrow raised. She wasn't fooled. "And?"

"Well…I had to fight her all the way up until she tried on the Ralph Lauren blazer." He smirked. "Then it was easy."

Chloe smiled. "Excellent."

"Just wait."

Sure enough, in half an hour's time Mia appeared, and at first it was evident that neither Louise nor Vivian had realized it was her. Chloe had carefully left her office door cracked open ever so slightly for this exact moment. She sipped on her coffee to hide her smile, eyes fixed on Mia, who had paused by the water cooler. She was dressed impeccably. It wasn't quite what Chloe considered business casual, but it was undeniably Mia. A charcoal leather skirt hugged her thighs down to three inches above her knee, and her remarkably attractive legs were adorned in sheer black tights with a classic seam up the back. The button-up, collared blouse was scarlet, sheer silk, and worn over a sweetheart neckline bodice. A chunky yellow and silver necklace was a bold choice, but worked with the bright yellow platform heels she was wearing. Chloe tried not to think about how someone like Mia could have such a practiced walk in such tall, spindly heels, of which she was currently adjusting the ankle strap. The transformation was completed with a bit of sheer red lipstick and her hair tied up in a french twist, a few flyaway strands of hair framing her face endearingly.

She finished adjusting the shoe strap and walked purposefully toward Chloe's office, but Louise's voice stopped her halfway to the door, her tone evidently bored. "You have to have an appointment."

Mia looked confused. "Edward said I was supposed to go see Chloe as soon as I got here."

Louise and Vivian both looked up, startled. "Holy shit," Louise said unabashedly and unflatteringly.

Mia was obviously controlling her facial features carefully. She arched a now-shapely eyebrow questioningly, as if she couldn't understand why they were reacting this way.

"What happened to you?" Vivian said. "You look…_decent."_

Mia snorted. "Right. Anyway." And she pulled the door to Chloe's office open and left them.

Chloe hurriedly looked at the page layouts on her desktop to pretend she hadn't been watching. The door clicked shut and Mia cleared her throat cautiously, causing Chloe to look up and smile. "Well look at you," she praised.

Mia beamed at her, spinning around so Chloe could fully appreciate the outfit. "I wasn't sure about it at first, but I feel really good about it, actually."

"The leather's a nice touch."

Mia chuckled. "Yeah, it's my favorite part. Wait 'til you see the leather pants. I'm wearing those tomorrow."

Chloe pressed her lips together in amusement. "Excellent. So you got more than one outfit then?"

"Oh my God Edward threw away practically my entire wardrobe! I had to hide my converse at Oliver's place!"

At this Chloe laughed healthily. "Oh, Edward."

"By the way, how was the weekend with Ollie? Did you guys have a good time?"

Chloe nodded. "Yeah, it was good. I missed work, though," she grinned.

Mia snorted. "You and he are exactly alike. You're married to your jobs. No offense," she added quickly, realizing she might be behaving a little too familiarly with her boss. Chloe just waved a dismissive hand. "Anyway, I'm glad you got him to actually take a whole weekend off. He's good about blowing off a little steam now and then, but getting him to take an entire day off, let alone a few in a row is like working a miracle. Guess that's what happens when he's in love with you," she shrugged matter-of-factly, as if she had just stated the most natural thing in the world.

Chloe, who had been taking another sip of her latte, choked and coughed violently for a moment, Mia rushing around the desk to slap her on the back helpfully.

"Woah! You okay?"

Chloe nodded, still sputtering a bit.

* * *

><p>Oliver was bent over a list of numbers that had his eyes going crossed. One way or another he was going to get this settled.<p>

"Trying to figure out where to cut down the cost of that factory in Oakland?" a voice said from his doorway.

Oliver rubbed his eyes wearily. "Hi, Dad."

His father chuckled. "Good morning, son." Robert Queen was a tall and handsome man, much like his son. But his son had inherited Laura's golden features, not Robert's chestnut brown hair (now almost entirely iron gray) and gray eyes. They shared height and bone structure though, and Oliver was very clearly his father's son in many ways.

Oliver leaned back in his chair to look at his father. "What's up?"

"Not much. Just bracing myself for the inevitable lay-offs and all the fun repercussions that come with," he replied dryly, obviously unhappy with the situation.

"Actually," and now Oliver leaned forward towards his father eagerly, "I think I've figured it out. The answer's practically staring us in the face," he gestured at his desktop, where the papers lay scattered beside his computer, and a sleek looking eTablet was lying at the corner.

Robert raised an eyebrow, "Oh?"

"Well…" Oliver rummaged through the papers until he found the one he was looking for. "Look at this," he handed the paper to his father, who pulled his glasses out of his pocket to better examine them. "The factory spends millions annually on printing off supplements to their employee manuals, which," he reached under his desk for something on the floor, "look like this." He dropped a square binder on his desk with a thud, the pages inside stacked a good four inches thick. "Every time they update equipment, the employees have to get a new supplement. They go through the hundreds of pages to take out anything referencing that machine and replace it with the new pages. Safety measures get updated; same thing happens. Employee responsibilities and procedures change; same thing happens. Any update, and thousands of pages get printed and handed out, and employees have to go through and throw out just as many. It's a hassle and a pain in the ass. I've tried doing one of the updates myself and it's tedious as hell. And—" he was clearly reaching his most important points "—it's expensive. Not to mention completely environmentally unsound."

"So you're suggesting—"

"We replace the manuals with tablets," Oliver held up the one on the corner of the desk. "Even with the cost of hiring a few extra people in the IT departments and training all the employees in how to use them, will more than take care of themselves. Plus it would be creating jobs instead of eliminating them, and it would make the factory environmentally friendly."

"You're forgetting the cost of the tablets themselves, not to mention getting the government to approve of the switch from hard to soft copy of the manual."

"I'm already talking to the government about the possibility of getting it approved, and I'm in touch with QI Tech about the newest test model for the "Quip," their new tablet. They love the idea and they're willing to work out a deal where they'll offer a discount to companies willing to make the switch, and they'll help with training. It's great advertising for the new product, not to mention it looks great for them to get behind the environmental aspect. People will eat it up."

Robert Queen made no effort to hide how impressed he was. "You've already got the ball rolling on this, haven't you?"

Oliver grinned. "Learned from you, didn't I?"

Robert nodded as he scanned the numbers and Oliver's notes about where the budget could afford the tablet. He glanced at the device in his hand, which was lightweight and glossy, clearly a thing of the future. "You should tell your fiance about this," he said mildly.

"I…what?" Oliver looked startled.

"Miss Sullivan. She runs that magazine, doesn't she? I've been reading a few of your mother's old issues. Her readers would be interested in a technological advance like this, especially since the head of QI Tech is a woman—Felicity Smoak. They'd eat it up. See if your better half would be willing to run an article—maybe even a spread—on it. I'm sure you could persuade her," he glanced up to wink at his son.

Oliver was staring at him like he was an alien.

Completely misinterpreting this reaction, Robert clapped Oliver on the shoulder. "Oh come now, it's okay to mix business with pleasure on occasion. I'm sure she won't be offended. But if you really have a problem with it, maybe I'll talk to her about it this evening."

"This evening?" Oliver said, still getting back his sea legs. This had to be the strangest conversation he'd ever had with his father. Robert hadn't even met Chloe and he was talking about her like she was already part of the family. Oliver had never known his father to so much as acknowledge the existence of a woman in Oliver's life, with the very slight exception of Tess, whom he had treated with grudging acceptance. "I…okay. What's this evening again?"

"Dinner. With your mother and I. Now listen," Robert said sternly. "I specifically had your assistant outside clear your schedule for tonight, and Chloe's assistant _promised _your mother that Chloe could make it. You'd better not forget. I want to meet her!" he said genially. "And in any case your mother's absolutely counting on it. And you know how she gets."

"Right," Oliver said dazedly. Then, snapping out of it. "Right, we wouldn't miss it."

"Excellent. We'll be expecting the two of you home in time for cocktails then."

Oliver swallowed. "Right. The two of us. No problem."

* * *

><p>"You're doing it wrong."<p>

"Excuse me?"

Chloe had popped into Oliver's bathroom in her robe, returning her makeup bag to his counter.

"Your tie. You're doing it wrong. It's been driving me crazy all weekend."

"What are you talking about?" Oliver said defensively, his hands frozen in the air, a knot in his tie halfway done.

"You should do a half-windsor knot. It would be much more flattering on you."

Oliver rolled his eyes. "Look, Sullivan, my father taught me how to tie a tie. I've always done it this way."

"Well, you've always done it wrong," Chloe said, pushing his hands aside and undoing his progress. "The four-in-hand knot is fine, but the half-windsor would look better on you. Like this," she said, biting her lip briefly as she concentrated on knotting his necktie. She pulled it tight and then turned down his collar for him, smoothing it with her finger tips. She looked up with a smile, but it faltered. They were close.

Too close.

_Lift your hands, Chloe. Right now. Lift your hands off of Oliver Queen and step away. Immediately_. Except that her body was simply not behaving. They were both frozen, and they were both exceptionally aware of their proximity to one another.

Oliver's eyes flickered to Chloe's yellow silk robe. Unbidden, ideas of pulling on the sash holding it together presented themselves to him. He could see her breasts pebbled slightly beneath the thin fabric. He swallowed tightly. It would be easy, so easy, to slip his hands beneath the robe and cup them in his palms. Her eyes would slide shut and she'd lean into him and sigh with pleasure as he brushed his thumbs across them, her own hands seeking him for support.

…_or she'd slap you and then cut off your manhood._ His sensible side seemed to have returned to stop him from doing something stupid, but it didn't stop the sudden rush of blood to his groin, and he was still having trouble stepping away from her.

Chloe was doing no better. She still hadn't been able to lift her hands from his collar. She was painfully aware of the toned muscle lying beneath her fingertips. Images of Oliver's naked torso, toned and glistening with sweat as he hovered over her in the bed in the next room were flashing through her mind's eye. Her mouth had gone very dry.

_He would never let you live it down if he knew what you were thinking, Chloe Sullivan. _But her awareness of the fact hadn't stopped a low ache from spreading through her thighs.

A beeping noise broke the spell. Oliver's watch was going off. He coughed and Chloe swallowed as they stepped several feet away from each other simultaneously.

"Right, we need to leave in five minutes then," Oliver said brusquely, pressing a button on his watch to stop the alarm.

"Right."

"Right."

"Right."

"Are you nearly ready then?"

"Right. What?"

"You're naked. I mean not dressed. I mean for this evening."

"Oh right!" Chloe looked down at her robe in surprise. "No, I just…need to slip on my dress," she said awkwardly, turning away from him and walking into the bedroom for his closet, where her clothes and shoes had been situated.

Oliver leaned over his sink and stared at himself sternly in the mirror, his reflection very clearly telling him to _snap out of it._

"Ready!" Chloe yelled moments later, seemingly quite herself again, but with the slightest waver in her voice when she said, "Just need a little help with the zipper."

Oliver gave himself another firm look in the mirror before walking out to help her. He had helped many a woman with the zipper on her dress, both for dressing and undressing. He had never been quite so careful to perform the action in the least intimate, least suggestive way possible. No touching her bare skin. No brushing his hands against her ass. No breathing against her neck or brushing his lips against her ear. Absolutely no pressing against her.

Chloe sighed a deep breath of relief when he stepped away. _See. Nothing to worry about. Absolutely fine._

"Well," she said, turning around to face him and beaming. "Ready, then?"

Oliver nodded, smiling in response to her smile. "Yeah."

"Do you think we'll need coats?" Chloe frowned, glancing out the window of Oliver's bedroom.

"Probably. It's getting cooler." For autumn was indeed underway now. Victor and Katherine's wedding had marked the end of summer, and the fall was bringing with it a whole new season of social obligations. There was the matter of Thanksgiving and where they would be spending it to settle, as well as the impending engagement party for Hal Jordan and his fiance Carol, as he had finally managed to pop the question the previous weekend. The winter would bring with it Bruce and Diana's wedding, in which both Chloe and Oliver were once again standing up with their friends.

Oh the complications of a fake engagement.

Returning with their coats, Oliver helped Chloe into hers and then led her down to the garage, both of them unusually quiet after their strange interaction in the bathroom. Chloe had other things on her mind when she saw them arriving outside of the Queen manor. The stone building was as beautiful as it was intimidating. Suddenly the prospect of spending an entire evening with Oliver's parents presented itself to her in full scale and she found herself nervously straightening the hem of her dress. She glanced at Oliver, who looked less unsettled than her, certainly, but also not quite himself.

"What's this going to be like?" she asked, a little anxiously. "I mean… your parents, will they like me?" She wasn't sure why she cared so much, as it didn't ultimately really matter. But she couldn't help it. She liked people to like her and she was a great believer in first impressions.

Oliver took his eyes off the road for a brief moment to look at her, then immediately flickered back as they approached the gate entrance. He smiled reassuringly, though. "Don't worry, my dad already loves you apparently. So I guess my mom must have given him a good report."

She didn't seem very reassured, so without thinking, he covered her hand with his and squeezed it encouragingly. "Trust me. They're more in love with you than I am."

Chloe laughed at that. "Not hard to be," she joked.

Oliver grinned, pausing briefly when he felt his fingers brush over the engagement ring on her finger. He pulled his hand back rather suddenly, suddenly conscious of what an intimate thing that was to do.

Within moments they had pulled up in front of the door and were walking through the giant front doors, where they were greeted by a butler who took their coats.

"You'll find your parents in the parlor, Mr. Oliver, Miss Sullivan," he said, nodding his head slightly before leaving them.

"Oliver," Chloe hissed, looking astonished. "You have a _butler_."

"_I_ don't have a butler. My parents do."

"Oliver. You have. A butler."

Oliver rolled his eyes and took her elbow, gently guiding her toward the parlor where he knew his parents would be waiting with cocktails. He caught Chloe fiddling with her hair out of the corner of his eyes and smiled. "Relax," he said in her ear as they reached the door. "You look beautiful."

Chloe gave him a startled look that he didn't notice as he pulled open the door. She had just opened her mouth to say something, when—

**"SURPRISE!"**

Chloe clutched her heart and Oliver faltered back a step looking shocked as they stared at the room full of people and the large banner hanging over the fireplace that read: CONGRATULATIONS, OLIVER AND CHLOE!

"Oh my —"

"—God."

It was an engagement party. People were closing in on them. Chloe's mother and father had rushed in to hug their daughter and were gushing words of congratulations. People who were company friends from Queen Industry were slapping Oliver on the back and shaking hands with him.

"Well, Chloe, introduce us all!" Gabe Sullivan was saying, his arm wrapped tightly around his little girl's shoulders. Gabe was a pleasant, round-faced man with slightly ruddy cheeks and a merry expression. His wife, Moira, had the look of an elegant woman completely at ease with herself, comfortable in any environment. Oliver wondered briefly where Chloe got her features from, as both of her parents had dark hair and eyes.

"Now, everyone, let them breathe," Laura Queen was saying, dispersing people back to the cocktail bar and mini-buffet. "They'll have a chance to talk to everyone later."

Chloe sent Laura a look of gratitude. She was clearly the perfect hostess, easily able to control the room at her whim.

"Oliver?" she said to her son, "Would you do us the honor?"

Oliver started a little, still looking rather shocked. "Of course. Mother, you've already met Chloe, but Chloe this is my father, Robert Queen—"

"Call me Dad as soon as you're ready, Chloe," Robert said, leaning in to kiss Chloe's cheek in welcome. She blushed bright red.

"And Chloe?" Oliver looked at her questioningly.

She collected herself. "Mom, Dad, this is Oliver." They greeted him warmly, Gabe shaking his hand and Moira cooing over how good-looking he was. "And his parents," she added a moment later.

"Oh, we've already done those introductions," Moira said pleasantly, sipping on a glass of champagne. "Chloe I'll never forgive you for keeping all this a secret. Laura and I are absolute soul mates," she winked at Laura who laughed her agreement. Clearly the two women had already become thick as thieves.

"How long have you been planning this?" Oliver asked, looking directly at his mother.

Laura touched her chest defensively. "You just _assume_ it was me."

A smile finally came out on Oliver's face. "Mother, this has your name all over it."

"All right, I confess!" she laughed. "I got in touch with Moira a little after our luncheon, Chloe. I just couldn't wait to be introduced. And she was _dying _to hear all about Oliver."

"Of course!" Moira said. "It's like pulling teeth to get this one to talk to me!" she nudged her daughter.

"Oliver's just as bad sometimes," Robert agreed, shaking his head.

"He/She works too much!" both mothers said at once. Gabe and Robert laughed.

"Two peas in a pod," Gabe grinned.

"I think so," Laura said knowingly.

Oliver and Chloe just stood there.

"Well, don't just gawk at us," Robert said, pushing Oliver toward Chloe. "You'll have plenty of time to talk to us. Go work the room. Everyone's dying to congratulate you. We'll have a proper toast in a little while. And I have an announcement to make," he added mysteriously, grinning at everyone.

Oliver frowned. "What announcement?"

"Never you mind," Laura said with a knowing look. "You'll find out soon enough. Now, Moira—" she linked arms with Chloe's mother, "—I want to hear the rest of that story you were telling me…" her voice trailed off as she steered Moira away towards a passing tray of champagne.

"I think we should make sure everyone has a drink in their hand, Gabe—and you have to tell me more about your factory's efforts to go green."

"Now, Robert, I can't go giving away all LuthorCorp's secrets, you know," Gabe laughed as he followed Robert away.

Chloe and Oliver stared at each other.

"My mother." It was all Oliver said, his face grim.

But Chloe smiled. "Don't worry about it." She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. "It will be fun. Let's go impress all your coworkers with how brilliant I am," she teased, looking mischievous.

Oliver narrowed his eyes. "What are you up to?"

She smirked. "I just think you should get something out of this. Like being able to show everyone the committed, stable Oliver Queen. I imagine they have a slightly different view of you?" she added knowingly.

Oliver couldn't help smiling in response. "Well when you put it that way…shall we go get some champagne, _dear?_"

Her smile broadened even more and it occurred to him how pretty she looked when she was genuinely smiling.

Ten minutes later found the couple chatting with a gentleman on the Board of Queen Industries who was in his late 50s, whom Oliver had never particularly liked. He was constantly hinting that Oliver would never live up to his father. He had a rather sour expression on his face as Chloe flooded him with praises of Oliver's dependability and general charming-ness. Oliver was actually starting to blush.

They were interrupted by the sound of a lightly clinking glass and looked up to see Robert trying to get everyone's attention. Everyone in the room stopped talking at once.

Beaming around the room, Robert looked like he was positively bursting with pride. "Does everyone have a glass of champagne?"

There was a general murmur of ascent, some people lifting their glasses slightly in indication.

"Good, good. Well, in that case, I have a few things. First and foremost, I would like to raise a toast. I myself haven't had an opportunity to get to know Miss Sullivan yet, but I have heard glowing reports all around. I know my wife well enough to know that she would never praise where it wasn't deserved, and not one person I've spoken to who knows Chloe has left her unsung. Most of you here know my son Oliver and you know what an incredible thing it is that he would let someone into his life as fully as he has clearly let in Chloe—"

Oliver shifted awkwardly and Chloe felt her face growing hot.

"—and I can tell you, I am so happy for my son it's overwhelming. And I am so happy that he has found love in his life. I think I can speak for Laura—and the Sullivans as well—that I could not be more thrilled to be gaining this ray of sunshine in my life. Chloe, I hope you know how happy I am to be gaining a daughter, and how grateful I am for the love you are bringing into my son's life. To Chloe and Oliver." He lifted his glass and everyone in the room followed suit, repeating his words before taking a sip. Everyone clapped and cheered while Chloe and Oliver blushed madly.

"Kiss! Kiss!"

"Kiss her, Ollie!"

"Kiss the bride!"

Chloe's panicked eyes met Oliver's.

"Go on, Oliver!" Robert said, chuckling at the couples' apparent bashfulness.

_Well, Queen,_ Chloe decided, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him closer, _I'm game if you are_. "Make it look good," she whispered in his ear, standing on her tiptoes and winking when she settled back.

The awkwardness broke and Oliver grinned devilishly. _All right, Sullivan. Brace yourself._ He grabbed her hand in his and wrapped his other arm tightly around her waist, spinning her to the side and dipping her low, causing her to emit a squeal of surprise to the delight of the whole room. After a brief pause to make her squirm, Oliver pressed his lips to hers.

The whole room vanished in sudden silence. Chloe felt her body flood with something entirely unfamiliar and unexpected, her ears ringing and her heart pounding with adrenaline. She gasped quietly.

Oliver's mind was humming, and his grip on her tightened. Her lips parted in surprise and he gently sucked on her lower lip, tugging at it as he backed off before setting her up right. He didn't let go, though. He was still holding her flush to his chest and they were both staring each other in the eyes, chests heaving, minds reeling in confusion. Slowly the sound of cheering and scattered applause seeped back into their consciousness. They broke apart and looked around at the room, completely silent.

"Now I do have another announcement to make!" Robert said loudly over the crowd, redirecting their attention. "It's an announcement I have been waiting for a while to make," he continued as people quieted down, "waiting for the right time. And I really can't think of a better occasion to make it than on an evening of celebration of the future. I want you all to be the first to know that at the end of the coming year, I will be retiring as CEO of Queen Industries and leaving my more than capable son in charge behind me. I couldn't be more proud of the man he is today, and I know I fully trust my legacy in his hands. I'll be making a formal announcement to the company this week."

There was a much wilder reaction of surprise this time, members of the board banding together to discuss one another's feelings about this startling development, others coming forward to congratulate Robert, and still other's coming to tell Oliver they knew he would do brilliantly.

Chloe was studying Oliver carefully. This news had obviously come as an unpleasant shock to him, and he was doing his best to hide it. His face had gone very pale though, and his eyes kept darting across the room to his father.

Impulsively, Chloe grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight. He clung onto it like a life-preserver, clutching it almost painfully tight, but clearly grateful for the gesture.

* * *

><p>They made it all the way up to Oliver's apartment in complete silence. Oliver walked into his room and just sat on the edge of his bed, tie loosened and cuffs unbuttoned. He ran a hand through his hair and there was a distant, almost wild look in his eyes, like he'd had something valuable torn from him.<p>

Chloe tiptoed after him and studied him from the doorway before hesitantly entering the room. "Oliver? Are you—is everything okay?"

"I had no idea." He shook his head, not looking at her, his mind clearly far, far away.

"I can tell."

"I just, I had no idea that he was planning on it. And—I don't know if I'm ready for this. And I don't like thinking about my father getting old, but this just makes him feel _so much older_." He shook his head again, desperation in his voice.

Chloe bit the inside of her lip indecisively before approaching him and sitting next to him. She put a hand tentatively on his shoulder. "Ollie, you're ready. I've only known your dad for a few hours and I can _tell_ he wouldn't be taking this step if he weren't completely sure you were ready. He loves that company. Almost as much as he loves you. He would never do anything to harm either one of you. Trust him." She nudged him slightly. "He knows what he's doing. And anyway, he told me about the Tablet idea you came up with, and Ollie, that's really impressive. I mean, that's just…brilliant. If that's how you handle the everyday business, then even _I_ don't have anything to criticize. And we both know how rare that is," she joked.

Oliver's body had relaxed noticeably at her words, but his eyes still looked uncertain, so Chloe stayed beside him. He turned his head to say something to her but paused when for what must have been the dozenth time that day, he found himself unnervingly close to her. Involuntarily his eyes flickered to her lips and he thought about kissing her earlier. Then he thought about kissing her now. It wasn't about her, he told himself. He wanted to take comfort in someone else right now. He needed sex and he needed human contact and she was the closest outlet for that. It would feel so good to just let go of everything and take pleasure in something so purely physical. Would she let him? It was doubtful. It seemed so easy, her sitting right next to him on his bed. All it would take was a little persuasion. A hand on her thigh beneath her skirt, his lips sucking on her neck, a quick removal of her dress. He could strip them both bare and bury himself in her, abandon all of his anxieties for carnal pleasure.

But it felt wrong. She might be there but she wasn't offering. Not that, anyway. She moved to say goodnight, and he decided to take what she _was_ offering. Well. Maybe a little more. His hand seized her arm, though not harshly, to stop her from leaving. "Would—?" But he wasn't quite sure how to phrase what he wanted.

She seemed to know intuitively. She smiled gently and let him pull her back toward the pillows of the bed. They'd shared a bed all weekend, so it didn't feel entirely unfamiliar at this point, but there was still no denying that this was the first time they were considering it sober. It felt strange, but he was a friend who needed comfort, something she could give him. He lay back against the pillow and she willingly cuddled into his side,both of them disregarding the fact that they were still fully dressed. She vaguely recalled the tossing and turning she had done alone in her bed last night and was grateful for what promised to be a much better night's sleep as she rested her head on his chest.


	14. Chapter 14

**As usual, I appreciate the patience in waiting for this chapter. Remember that you can follow my twitter to hear the occasional update on how progress is coming. I nearly always put out at least one tweet when I'm working on a chapter, and it's another way I notify people when the new chapter is up. Please check there before you send me "reviews" with the command to update the story.**

**As some of you know I have moved to NYC with my new job. And I'm slightly homeless, so it's been a stressful time. (I say "slightly" because I have not yet slept on a bench in Central Park.) Other than that, I'm thrilled to be here, and I've enjoyed talking to some of you in between chapters. Even now, the chlollie community is one of the most wonderful ones I have found to be part of. Thanks everyone!**

**Love,  
>Blue<strong>

—14—

"Hi, honey," Moira Sullivan said, squeezing her daughter tightly. "How are you, sweetie? You look a bit peaky. Are you feeling well?"

"Where's Oliver today?" Gabe asked, pulling out Chloe's chair for her so she could sit down.

"He's working, Dad, and I'm fine, Mom," Chloe said simply.

"Well, I'm sure he's under a lot of pressure now that Robert's made that announcement about him taking over the company."

Chloe's mind flickered to the the night of the engagement party, of sleeping in Oliver's arms and creeping out of the room the next morning while he was still asleep. "He's under a lot of stress," was her only reply.

"This is just so odd," Moira commented, looking around the room. "Did we really need to be so isolated?"

Chloe just looked at her menu. "I usually request a private room for lunch so people don't bother me."

"You forget what a big shot our little girl is," Gabe teased his wife.

Chloe sighed, looking exhausted. "Normally it's only a minor problem. I'm an editor. It's not like I'm a real celebrity. But now that I'm engaged to Oliver it's gotten a lot worse. People are always trying to catch me doing something indiscreet, or they're trying to get photos of me with Oliver. Either way, it's been getting worse." She took a sip of her water, looking vaguely weary. She and Oliver hadn't really talked for about a week now. When she'd slipped out of bed the other morning, she'd disappeared to work before he was up. They hadn't talked about it. Things had gone back to normal for a while, with them hanging out in the evenings and talking about what was going on at work, enjoying having company at night, although back to sleeping in their own separate beds. But they hadn't seen much of one another for the past few days. Work was crazy and having her parents in town for this long was really throwing Chloe's schedule off. Gabe and Moira didn't understand how far in advance she usually scheduled something like a lunch date.

"That's right, a friend of mine at work said some tabloid is offering 2 million dollars to anyone who can get a photograph of you two kissing."

"_Gabe_," Moira scolded. "Don't tell her that! Can't you see how upset she is?"

Chloe looked up at her mother, confused. "I'm not upset. Who says I'm upset?"

Moira covered her daughter's hand across the table. "I'm sorry, dear. I just mean you look out of sorts. Is work stressful? Is everything okay with you and Oliver?"

"I—" Chloe hesitated. Here was a ready made moment to hint that things had taken a downward turn with Oliver, but at the moment she was thinking about kissing Oliver the other night. A two million dollar kiss, apparently. The opportunity passed Chloe by without her realizing it. "We're fine. Things are fine. I'm just tired. We're coming out with a double-issue this fall, and one of my go-to designers is on some sort of creative strike…I'm not really sure what it's about. Artists are touchy," she shook her head dismissively.

"I'm sure it will come together, honey," Gabe said, pausing when a waiter entered to take their beverage requests.

"Speaking of the fall, though," Moira piped up the next moment, "We were discussing things with the Queens, and Laura agreed to let you two spend Thanksgiving with us and Christmas here. I figured you wouldn't mind since you're not usually home for Christmas anyway."

Chloe didn't miss the accusing note in her mother's voice. She looked at Moira affectionately. "You know how it is, Mom. The Christmas season is a really busy time for me. I can't afford to vanish off the face of the earth."

"I would hardly call 'Smallville' vanishing off the face of the earth," Moira sniffed.

"Wouldn't you?" Gabe joked, winking at Chloe, who chuckled.

"Well all I know is I want my daughter and her fiance home for at least one holiday!" Moira pressed on. "We don't see nearly enough of you, and I want to get to know my future son-in-law. He seems like such a nice boy."

Chloe snorted into her water, laughing a little. "Yep, Oliver's a real angel," she joked.

Moira chuckled. "Well, he seems like a gentleman anyway."

Chloe thought this might be taking it a bit far, but she didn't feel it would be prudent to argue.

"I like him for you," Gabe said, leaning back in his chair. "I spoke to him for a little while the other day. He seems surprisingly down-to-earth for someone who's grown up in the spotlight like he has. And I like the way he talks about you."

Chloe raised her eyebrows curiously. "What do you mean?"

"You picked a good one, Chloe. He really respects you. He talks about you like you're his equal. I like that."

Chloe wasn't quite sure how to respond to this.

"I want you both for Thanksgiving, Chloe-Ann," Moira interjected, a bit of a sing-song tone in her voice. "No ifs, ands, or buts."

Chloe drank more water, her face feeling warm for some reason.

* * *

><p>"Edward! I need to know what my November schedule looks like."<p>

Edward jumped, looking guilty. Chloe didn't notice. Bypassing him for her desk, she sat down and started pulling up her afternoon appointments on her computer.

"N-November?" Edward asked distractedly. "Right, okay!"

"Oh and Edward! Send Mia in here. I want to talk to her about the fundraiser tomorrow night. I think it would be good for her to help you with some of the prep. Have you helped her find an evening dress for next month, by the way?"

"Wedding dress? I mean, evening dress! Yes, of course, I'm on it!"

Chloe looked up in time to see him vanishing from the room and frowned. "What was that about?" she mouthed, momentarily concerned.

She was almost immediately diverted by an e-mail from Vera Wang, hinting dramatically that it was high-time Chloe looked at wedding dresses, followed by an almost identical one from Laura Queen. Chloe thought briefly of lunch with her parents, unconsciously sucking on the cap of a pen. She would have to talk to Oliver about the holidays. They were sinking ever deeper into this lie, and it needed to be discussed.

Outside, unbeknownst to Chloe, Edward and Mia were in frantic discussion, far removed from the perked ears of Vivian and Louise.

"You've got to hide it!" Edward said urgently.

"_Hide it?"_ Mia whispered, incredulous. "How on earth am I going to _hide_ it?"

"Well I was going to and then she walked in!"

"Where do you want me to put it?" Mia's tone was one of utter disbelief.

"Up your skirt for all I care, woman! You've got to get it out of there before she sees!"

"Are you sure it's that big of a deal? I mean it was _years_ ago."

"Trust me. You didn't know her back then. It's a big deal." And before Mia could protest or otherwise question Edward's sanity, he was shoving her towards the door. "Go! She'll be wondering what's taking so long!" with which remark he unceremoniously forced her threw the door and let it close behind her.

Oblivious, Chloe looked up from the notes in front of her. "Oh hi, Mia. Give me just a sec…. How are you doing today?"

"I—Good," Mia said too loudly. Her eyes darted nervously to a stack of mail in Chloe's in-tray. Chloe was already looking at her computer again, rapidly typing an e-mail to a well-known artistic photographer who was promising her an exclusive interview. Mia edged slowly toward the inbox, trying not to draw too much attention to herself. She glanced at Chloe. Chloe was frowning at the computer, muttering under her breath as she reread a line in the photographer's e-mail. She wasn't paying any attention at all to Mia. Slowly, very carefully, Mia leaned over to see the stack of mail in the tray. She didn't see what she was looking for. Instead of trying to surreptitiously rifle through it, she quietly lifted the stack and started to hide it behind her back. She was about to say that Chloe looked busy, when Chloe hit send with an air of finality and looked up to talk to Mia. She saw the papers in Mia's hands. "Oh good! Is that the mail? Late today, isn't it?" she added, taking it from Mia's reluctant hands, before she could come up with any excuse to delay Chloe.

"So I wanted to talk to you about the fundraiser tomorrow night," Chloe said, thumbing through the mail as she spoke. She glanced at a Thank You note from Katherine and Victor for the wedding gift with a smile. "You're really not going to be doing much. I want you to have fun, I just want you to shadow Edward for the first half of the evening, so you can see what goes into it from our end." She tossed aside a letter from Bruce Wayne to read later. "I've already told him that you'll be helping. Since I'm going as a representative of the company instead of just as a private donor, there's a lot of background details that go on to make sure everything goes smoothly." There was a newsletter from the Star City Metropolitan Opera. She set that in a stack in case there was anything in it she wanted to mark on her schedule. "Anyway, it will be a longer day for you both than usual. So you can both leave ear—" she stopped, staring at a pale yellow envelope, all of the blood draining from her face, the second syllable of "early" lost on her tongue.

Mia watched her nervously.

"Mia?" Chloe said, after what felt like an eternity.

"Yes?"

Chloe stood up from her desk, looking around her in a daze. "I'm—I'm going home."

"What?" This was unheard of behavior. Chloe did not simply leave early. Especially when she had taken extra time away from the office to see her parents that afternoon. She had appointments!

"I'm leaving," Chloe repeated, looking for her purse and coat.

"I—are you okay?"

Chloe seemed not to hear her.

* * *

><p>Oliver rubbed a hand across his face. It had been a slow, boring day at his father's office. People were sucking up to him more than ever now that his father was retiring, and it was annoying. He was crossing his fingers that Chloe would be home at a reasonable hour tonight. He'd actually been looking forward to seeing her. One thing he liked about Chloe was that she talked to him like he was any other person, no hidden agendas, no seductions…she didn't want anything from him. It was refreshing to say the least.<p>

His hopes weren't high, though. She'd been getting in later and later these days, and he knew that big fundraiser was tomorrow night, so she'd probably be up to all hours preparing for it as if _she_ were the one hosting it.

That in mind, Oliver was understandably surprised to find himself tripping over Chloe's coat, purse, and shoes lying in the middle of his floor when he opened the door. It was as if she had dropped them on the threshold and forgotten all about them.

Frowning, he picked them up and moved them aside, still more surprised when he felt Chloe's phone vibrating in the purse. It was typically super-glued to her hand, especially this early in the evening. Wondering how angry she would be if she found out, he carefully poked around in her purse until he found the object buzzing frantically. It stopped and he saw that she had 12 missed calls. Before he could see who they were all from, Edward's name flashed across the screen as he attempted to reach her again.

Going with an instinct, Oliver answered the phone. "Hello?" he said curiously.

"_Oh thank God! Mr. Queen!_" Edward's voiced gushed from the other end. _"She's with you? We've been absolutely beside ourselves. Is she okay?"_

Oliver's frown deepened. Eyeing the coat and shoes, he said, "Yeah, she's with me. She's home."

"_How's she taking it?"_

He was going to ask how she was taking what, but it felt strangely invasive. Something personal was obviously going on, and he wasn't sure Chloe would be comfortable knowing he was gossiping about her with her personal assistant. "She's taking it okay, Edward. Thanks for checking in."

Edward breathed a sigh of relief. _"I'm just glad she's got you right now. I can't imagine how she'd be feeling if she were alone right now. Honestly, I probably assumed that she'd take this a lot harder than she really did. We just got scared when she left the office unannounced. All right, well, take care of her. I've got evening wear to shop for. I'll see you tomorrow night, I'm sure. Bye!"_ He hung up, leaving Oliver more confused than ever.

For starters, it had occurred to Oliver for the first time that he would be expected to attend this fundraiser as Chloe's date. Obviously, this hadn't occurred to Chloe either, because she hadn't broached the subject once.

Then there was the matter of her leaving work early and unplanned. The idea was totally unprecedented in the time that he had known her. Time off? Sure, as long as she could plan it weeks in advance. Preferably months. And hadn't she had to schedule a last minute lunch with her parents today? That had probably run over.

And what was it she was taking hard, that Oliver was supposedly making easier for her? Had her parents upset her? Was it work-related? Or something else altogether?

Well, he decided, there was only one way to find out.

"Chloe?" he called, hoping she wouldn't be too unhappy to see him. There was no answer. He walked down the hall toward the guest room, thinking perhaps she hadn't been feeling well and had gone to sleep in there. But as he got closer, he heard noise coming from the room and then a loud smash of broken glass. Chloe let out a startled yell and it suddenly became evident that whatever she was doing, she was crying.

Oliver rushed to the door and swung it open, scared that she'd hurt herself somehow. What he found was possibly the most shocking development of all. Chloe was in her business attire, but somewhat haphazardly. The top few buttons of her silk purple blouse were hanging open undone, revealing the lace of a wireless bra. Her hair was a mess and there was a run in her stockings and more importantly, there were streaks of mascara smeared across her face from crying. Her hand was bleeding from the broken glass and on the floor was a bottle of cheap wine, broken into several large pieces, a pool of cabernet surrounding them like blood.

In one movement, Oliver was at Chloe's side. He steered her away from the glass and set her on the bed, where she didn't move, quietly sobbing and clearly in shock from hurting her hand, which she simply held aloft and stared at, as though unsure as to how it was bleeding.

He dashed to the kitchen for several dishrags, one of which he used to pick up the glass, and the rest he threw on the floor to soak up the wine. Then he ran to the master bathroom off of his room and rummaged in the linen closet until he found the first-aid kit. When he reached Chloe again, she was exactly as he had left her, reminding him of a small-child who had hurt herself playing outside. As he approached her, he caught the strong smell of wine coming from her in waves. Evidently that had not been the first bottle.

"Here," he said kindly, "let me see your hand." He took her small hand in his large ones with surprising gentility, kneeling down in front of her, and Chloe stared at their hands, transfixed, still shaking from crying so hard. Delicately, he removed a couple of small pieces of glass and set them aside to throw away. Then he took a small alcohol wipe out of the first aid kit and gently dabbed at the wound. She let out a pained cry when it burned, cringing and trying to pull her hand away, but Oliver held it firmly. "It's okay," he reassured her. "It's okay, I've got you. Just a little bit more." He finished cleaning the gash and set the alcohol wipe with the bits of glass. Then he pulled out several pads of gauze, which he pressed into her hand until he stopped seeing blood seep through to the top layer. He felt Chloe's hand begin to stop shaking, and her breathing changed as he continued to put pressure on the cut. He hoped that meant she was calming down. His own pulse was racing with concern. Finally, he took out a roll of bandage tape and began to wrap her hand, securing the gauze in place for the time being. He looked up at her from the floor, not realizing he hadn't released her hand. "There. No big deal. Now what on earth is going on, Chloe? Are you all right?"

Chloe opened her mouth to say something but all she could manage was a drunken little sob of exhaustion. She tried again and couldn't do it. Finally, she handed Oliver a yellow card that had been in her good hand. He hadn't even noticed it until now, he'd been so anxious.

He looked down at it and saw that it was a wedding invitation.

_Jimmy Olsen and Kara Ellis_

_Would like to Cordially Invite You and Guest_

_To Celebrate Their Wedding_

Oliver didn't read the information on the time and place. He was trying to understand what about a wedding invitation would upset Chloe to this extent. Before he could ask, though, she let out a very pitiful sounding hiccup and said, "They're getting married! Isn't it charming? Married! I mean, they've only been together for _years_ now. It's about time, isn't it?"

Oliver wasn't sure how to respond to this, but he suddenly recalled that Chloe had told him, that first night at the beginning of all this mess, when they'd gotten to know each other over several bottles of vodka, that she had an ex-boyfriend named Jimmy.

_So she's still hung up on him?_ he thought with a surge of heat. Was that what this was about? She'd never gotten over her first boyfriend and now she was a complete wreck because he was getting married to someone else. He felt angry, although he couldn't exactly peg what was making him angry. He didn't like the idea that she was this upset over another man getting married. Who was this guy, anyway? It wasn't anyone Oliver had ever heard of, so he probably wasn't a socialite. He was probably just some twit she'd dated in college who hadn't known when he had a good thing going for him. And now he was marrying some poor-man's Chloe. _And may they be miserable-ever-after,_ he concluded spitefully.

But something else nagged in the back of his head. Suddenly he remembered what it was: Lois, standing in the hallway of a hotel, telling him to talk to Chloe about her past. He realized that there was more to this than he was grasping.

"I don't understand," he said slowly, watching her steadily. "Jimmy…he's your ex?"

It hadn't helped anything. She started crying afresh and wrenched her hand from his so she could bury her face in both of hers.

Not liking this one bit, Oliver stood up. "Okay," he said. "Kitchen, now." Without warning, he swept her easily into his arms and, sidestepping the first aid kit materials on the floor, carried her into the kitchen, where he gently set her down on the counter. Then he went about getting her a large glass of water and rummaging in the fridge for something for her to eat. He found some left-over rotisserie chicken and brought it to her with the water.

She ignored the chicken at first but after guzzling the entire glass of water—which he promptly refilled, she started to pick at it forlornly. After another glass of water, he tried again. "So tell me what happened," he said, gazing at her in earnest, encouraging her to confide in him.

The food and water seemed to have calmed her, and she took a long, ragged breath to steady herself. "Jimmy and I met in high school the summer before senior year. And then we met again in college and all the feelings of summer romance came rushing right back. We dated for most of college. It was…" she struggled for the right word, "serious. We talked about getting married after graduation. I was expecting a proposal soon. He was my first real love."

She stopped, taking another large gulp of water before plowing ahead with her story.

"But he wasn't as happy as I was. He didn't like how ambitious I was and…and I…_neglected_ him." Oliver could tell it was incredibly painful for her to admit to this. "I was so busy with extra course loads and internships and part-time jobs—I was already working for _Whistle_ back then—that I had less and less time to spend with him. And he was such a nice guy and so good and sweet and so much better than me and it wasn't fair to him.

"And then Clark's cousin came along. Kara. And I knew she was smitten with Jimmy but I thought it was a harmless crush and I trusted him so I never worried about it."

She didn't have to continue. Oliver could see where this was headed, but she just kept going, the words coming out in a rush of emotion.

"At first it wasn't anything real. They were just spending time together. It made me uncomfortable but I reminded myself that my best friend was Clark. He was allowed to have female friends. I'll never know if they actually did anything. I don't want to know. But I suspect…I'm sure…after a certain point, it was more than just spending time together." She closed her eyes as though repressing the horror of all the little clues that had hinted at it—ruffled hair, incorrectly buttoned shirts, guilty expressions. "They didn't keep it up long. She's not really a bad person and he's definitely not. So he left me for her." She paused, the tragedy of it hitting her for what might well have been the first time. "And he broke my heart!" she wrenched out in a high voice, sobbing dryly and clutching at Oliver who already had his arms wrapped around her. "And now they've actually had the nerve to invite me to their wedding, like it's not a kick in the face!" she whined into his shoulder. "I have to go and watch them get married! Because if I don't go everyone will talk and everyone will know that he hurt me, and I'll be causing a big scene just by not being there!"

Oliver rocked her gently as she continued to hide her misery in his shoulder, rubbing her back soothingly. "It's okay, Chlo."

"But it's not okay!" she said abruptly, pushing away from him with hysteria in her eyes. "I've dated _one_ person since Jimmy Olsen, and it was a complete fiasco! He was…it was…" she changed courses, unable to finish her sentence, "And now I'll have to go to their wedding, single and pathetic and miserable for everyone to see."

Tempted though he was to ask about this second "fiasco" boyfriend, Oliver addressed the more pressing issue. "Woah, woah, woah! You are hardly single and pathetic and miserable! Damn, Sullivan! I mean, what am I? Chopped liver?"

Chloe laughed bitterly at his obvious joke. "Oh, come off it, Oliver. We can't possibly keep this up until next spring. It would be ludicrous. I was going to call you today to discuss breaking things off before Thanksgiving. I don't want my parents to get too attached to you and then have it be really hard on them when we split. I'm sure it will be hard enough on both our parents as it is."

Oliver wasn't sure what to say. He hadn't anticipated this development. Before Thanksgiving? That could mean any week now. Once upon a time, he would have been relieved to get his life back. Now he found himself already mourning the absence of Chloe in his life. It was nice coming home to find her here, eating breakfast with her, having someone around who could handle herself in the many social circles he moved throughout. He had grown to enjoy her company and her friendship, and he wasn't sure how he would have handled the news of his father's retirement without her, even if he _had_ suspected that she'd been avoiding him for a couple of days after they'd shared a bed together.

Pushing these selfish thoughts away, he again turned his attention back to her. "Chloe, with or without me, you are a completely incredible woman. Everyone in this city who knows you respects you. And your friends love the hell out of you. The people who work for you are convinced they have the best jobs in the world—which I can tell you, is a completely remarkable accomplishment. You're formidable and incredibly attractive. Men drool over you all the time and you don't even notice it—"

She snorted and Oliver knew she didn't believe him. He rolled his eyes.

"Seriously, Sullivan. Do you know how many guys have been asking me if you have a sister or a friend for them? Or better yet if they can have your number when I screw it up? And what about Harvey Dent? Don't think he won't be calling you when this is all over between us!" He said it encouragingly, trying not to think about the fact that that idea annoyed him on a very deep level. He'd wondered more than once what she had told Dent to explain her sudden engagement.

"Don't be ridiculous," Chloe shook her head. "Harvey was just a good friend anyway. I haven't dated anyone in years. I haven't had _sex_ in _years_," she moaned miserably, dropping her head back and looking at the ceiling.

Oliver just stared. He knew it had been a while, but…no. Surely not. "What are you talking about?"

"It's been _years. _And it suuuucks," she groaned, now flopping her head forward again in a petulant manner.

"Hold on a second. I don't believe that. A woman like you?"

"In case you haven't noticed, Queen, I've never exactly been a hot commodity."

Oliver shook his head. "No way. You had to have had offers. If you haven't had sex in years, then it was definitely by choice."

A strange look passed over Chloe's face and she looked at Oliver. She opened her mouth to try to explain but her head was spinning from all the wine she'd had, and now she was tired, too. It was making her vision foggy.

"Of course I've had offers. I just…have issues." He stared at her blankly, so she elaborated. "Trust issues."

Oliver frowned. It wasn't that he didn't understand this to a degree. He completely respected anyone's right to say no or to choose to wait for sex. But there was something about the way she said it that bothered him, it was more than just dealing with someone cheating on her. So he asked. "What do you mean?"

"The whole Davis thing freaked me out," she confessed, drunkenly forgetting that Oliver still didn't know what that meant. "I just…ever since then I just haven't been…I can't…I don't do relationships."

Oliver was getting exhausted trying to follow. Was her being upset about Jimmy or about this Davis guy? "What happened with Davis?" he asked. Clearly there was something connected there.

Chloe's entire postured changed, arms crossing and curling into herself. "I wanna go to bed," she said, "I don't want to talk about this any more."

"What did he do to you?" Oliver asked, protective instincts flaring. He didn't mean to ask it. As upset as she was, she clearly needed to go to bed and get a good night's sleep, and he had no business not letting her. But he wanted to know what this Davis guy had done to her. She had a victimized look in her eyes that didn't belong in his mentally constructed version of her. Chloe was many things, but victim was definitely not one of them.

Chloe hugged herself tighter, now refusing to meet Oliver's eyes as she spoke in a low, troubled voice, gushing the words that she never would have allowed herself to speak sober. "It started out okay. I met him toward the end of my relationship with Jimmy. I knew he liked me, but he respected my relationship with Jimmy. He never crossed any lines. When things fell apart with Jimmy, I guess I rebounded with him. He was handsome and heroic—a paramedic—and charming. He swept me off my feet and at first it was okay because it was nice being with someone again and not feeling heartbroken. But I was scared of ignoring him the way I'd ignored Jimmy. So I let him talk me out of a lot of things. I started spending less time at work and stunted a lot of my progress with the magazine. I did the bare minimum and then came home to him. We moved in together. And then it started getting…it changed. I wasn't just neglecting work. I was avoiding my friends and family. He had a…a jealous side. He especially had issues with Clark and Jimmy. Jimmy still cared about me and he didn't like Davis. Thought he was bad for me. Davis hated that Jimmy and I still talked, and he was convinced that there was something going on with me and Clark. And then he started keeping me from my family…Lois, my parents, even the Kents. I barely left the apartment except to got to classes, and when I graduated, to go to work. He was becoming more and more controlling in every area of our relationship. He never…he didn't hit me, but it was—" she swallowed tightly, "It was definitely abusive. I was made to constantly feel guilty, and I—" she was ripping the words from her throat now, as if they had been wedged there for years. "I wanted to leave him but I was scared. I think he sensed it because he became more and more forceful. Sex became…it was a way of staking ownership." She was trembling again, and Oliver reached for her shoulder, gripping it bracingly, unsure how else to comfort her. "It went on for just over a year before Lois stepped in. She'd suspected something wasn't right for a while, and finally she confronted me. She's always been like a sister to me, so I couldn't lie to her. I told her everything, and she got me out. Used connections from her dad to get Davis arrested. Then ultimately she worked the system so he would be forced to get some help. I asked her once and…I think he turned out okay in the end. He had some issues but he never wanted to be a bad person. As for me…I just…." She let out a deep, shaky breath. "I haven't had a relationship with a man since…any kind of relationship. Part of me has been scared to. Part of me just assumes no one will understand my lifestyle. Jimmy and Davis didn't. Why should anyone else? I'm selfish at the end of the day. I always put my work first."

Oliver was in shock. There were so many things here that he wanted to address. So many things that disturbed and upset him, but this last statement was really too much. "That's ludicrous!" he exclaimed. "You're always taking care of your friends first. Weren't you the person who was furious with me for almost missing AC's wedding? And you hired Mia even though she was probably one of the least qualified candidates you had. And you took off work today just to see your parents even though it was completely inconvenient for you. Good God, Chloe, I've never met anyone as selfless as you!"

Rather than making her smile, being told something so kind and sweet just made Chloe collapse into drunken tears again, and she buried her face in Oliver's chest, clinging to him for dear life.

"Okay, Sullivan," Oliver said softly, rubbing her back as he let her cry it out. "You're okay. You've seen some serious hell in your life. You just need to let it out." He suspected that she had never allowed herself to do this until now. It was probably healthy. He found himself marveling at how this changed his perception of her. He had never seen her so vulnerable or small. She was always confident and self-assured, commanding the entire room. He couldn't imagine someone manipulating her the way this Davis person had. _But I'm seeing the end-product,_ he reminded himself. _This is who she became _because_ of that guy. Who knows what she was like back then?_

So this was what Lois had meant when she had told Oliver to talk to Chloe about her past. He could see why. That was a lot of baggage Chloe was carrying with her. Two real relationships and the first one had cheated on her and the second abused her. No wonder she was known in the media for keeping to herself and being a so-called 'ice queen.' He'd been wondering about that nickname for some time. At times, it suited her, but among her friends and family, she was the warmest, most genuine person he'd ever met. Her smile alone could light up a room. But those were the people who had earned her trust. To outsiders she was aloof and closed off. It was how she protected herself from the rest of the world. _And from me_, he added, thinking of how she had been when they first met. No laughter, no smiles, just sharp wit and shut downs. It made his heart sink a little further knowing that he was considered an outsider. He'd love to have that warm smile directed at him sometime.

He held her for a long time while she continued crying, his shirt growing damp from her tears. He didn't care. He would have loved to have gone out and done something proactive to help her, but one didn't exactly punch ex-boyfriends in the face for one's fake-fiance. And how exactly _did_ you protect someone from her past? He couldn't fight ghosts.

Quietly, a small realization was forming in the back of Oliver's mind about the way all this information had hit him, and about his reaction to it. Something had definitely changed between him and Chloe, but he wasn't ready to admit it yet. He didn't have the gumption. So his mind filed it away to think about later, tucking the information into a small corner of Oliver's heart, to be referred to when it became more relevant.

When Chloe at last stilled herself, finally shedding what could only have been the very last of the tears, Oliver carried her to his bathroom. Again he placed her on the counter, then ran a washcloth under hot water before gently wiping away the salt and mascara on her face, placing the cloth over her eyes for a moment to sooth the redness and swelling. Chloe allowed him to coddle her like a child, unable to resist or indeed even be bothered that someone was taking care of her this way. He forced her to drink another cup of water, then retrieved her pajamas and helped her undress. She clung to him for support tiredly and allowed him to carry her over to his bed where he placed her under the sheets. Moments later she felt him join her, pulling her into his chest and wrapping his arm around her securely. Only then did her head stop spinning enough to allow her to go to sleep.

Twice in the night she woke up to be sick, and only vaguely was she aware that he was there, too, holding her hair back, helping her rinse out her mouth with ginger ale and forcing her to drink some of it before sleeping again so she didn't get any more dehydrated.

* * *

><p>When Chloe woke up the next morning, though, he wasn't there, and through her throbbing head and churning stomach, she was foggily conscious of being disappointed. She groaned miserably and rolled over.<p>

"Hang on, Edward, I think she's awake," said a voice. The words didn't make sense. Her brain couldn't seem to process who was speaking or what about. "Yeah, yeah that sounds fine." A pause. "Well she's going to have to be okay with it. No don't worry I'll take care of her."

Take care of who? Her? She closed her eyes tightly, irrationally thinking that someone was planning to have her killed off. Good. Maybe then the room would stop spinning.

"Hey, Sunshine," the disembodied voice said, much closer and directed at her now. Chloe whined and hid her face in the pillow, savoring it's cool darkness. "You should have something to eat," the voice encouraged. "And drink." No response. "I've also got pain killers and antacids here," it sang temptingly.

Chloe tilted her head to the side to peer up at the person. It was Oliver, holding a tray of scrambled eggs, toast, water, juice, and yes, pills. She gratefully accepted the tray, too hungover to be embarrassed that she was in his bed.

Wait.

She was in his bed. What was she doing in his bed? And in her pajamas. A brief image of Oliver undressing her on his bathroom counter flashed back to her. Her entire face flooded with color. Apparently she wasn't too hungover to be embarrassed. What had happened last night? Everything was a blank. She remembered coming home with a bag of wine and then very little after the first few bottles. Her hand hurt. She looked down to see it was bandaged. How had that happened? A flash of a broken wine bottle spilling all over the floor came to her and then nothingness again.

And then she remembered the wedding invitation. A blurry image of Oliver walking in on her and discovering the broken bottle came back to her. Her entire body sank into the bed in humiliation. "Oh my God," she groaned. What must he think of her?

He was still watching her. She looked at him nervously, but there was no judgment in his eyes. He was just waiting to make sure she ate the food. "I…don't suppose 'I'm sorry' would do this justice?" she said timidly.

Oliver chuckled. "Sorry for what? Getting drunk?"

"For getting drunk and spilling wine all over your floor and somehow ending up in your bed. And I don't remember much else but I'm assuming it was incredibly unattractive to deal with. I'm so sorry."

She moaned and leaned her head back against the head board.

"Eat something," Oliver said. "And you've got nothing to apologize for. You had a bad day and got drunk. We all do that. But just remember next time you don't have to buy cheap wine, my liquor cabinet is your liquor cabinet," he joked. Chloe didn't looked convinced by his bravado so he repeated himself. "Eat something. You'll feel better."

Humbly, she took a small bite of scrambled eggs and felt them drop into her stomach. Food was good. Sustenance. She ate another bite then reached for the apple juice so she could swallow some aspirin. Then she ate more eggs and a bite of toast.

"So I've been on the phone with your assistant all morning. I told him you'd had a late night and needed to sleep in, but don't worry I convinced him that it had almost nothing to do with you taking off yesterday. You've just been working too hard lately. You're morning appointments were rescheduled, and the last minute dress-fitting is going to happen here instead of at your office. Mia and Edward are handling everything else."

Chloe stared at him with her mouth open. The aspirin wasn't working quickly enough. She couldn't process what he was saying to her. She rubbed her temples and closed her eyes. "Slower and fewer words," she pleaded.

He chuckled again and had a seat in an armchair across from the bed. "Work is taken care of. Dress will be here in two hours."

She nodded her understanding but quickly stopped when that made her head hurt more. "Thank you. What…what _happened_ last night? How did I end up in here?"

Oliver frowned. He hadn't realized she was drunk enough to black out last night. "What do you remember?"

"Bits and pieces…I dropped a bottle of wine. You cleaned it up. I think you made me eat some chicken…and…" her face flushed again when she recalled him undressing her. "That's about it," she rushed on, skipping that detail. What had she been thinking? How could she have behaved that way in someone else's home?

"Ah." Oliver wasn't sure what to say. She didn't remember confiding in him. Should he tell her? Or would she be even more embarrassed that she had told him something so intimate about her past? He was sure she would. So he shrugged. "Sounds like your ex-boyfriend is getting married and you were upset about it. No big deal. We ate in the kitchen and talked about how stupid he is to let someone like you go. You wanted to watch romantic comedies and eat ice cream together but I put my foot down and made you go to bed."

Chloe frowned at him. She sincerely doubted any of that had happened. Except clearly the part where he had helped her go to bed. He looked tired. She remembered throwing up in the night and closed her eyes in shame. He had gotten up and helped her. What had she done to this poor man?

"Listen," he said, "I wanted to talk to you about what we're doing here."

At that, Chloe looked up sharply. He was going to call it quits after this and she didn't blame him. She tried not to think about why she felt so bitterly disappointed that she had managed to ruin her fake-engagement with someone.

"I know you were thinking we should break things off before the holidays, but I was thinking about it all morning, and what's the point of being fake-engaged to a billionaire if you can't bring him to show off at your ex-boyfriend's wedding?"

It took her a moment to understand what he was saying. And then it hit her. "Wait…really? You want to drag it out?"

He shrugged, eyes twinkling. "I don't know about you, but I've actually been having a bit of fun with this, and I personally think that making your ex bitterly regret ever leaving you would be incredibly entertaining."

Chloe couldn't care less about what Jimmy thought of her any more. They were on good enough terms that he had felt the need to invite her to his wedding, obviously. It had been a long time since she had wondered why she and Jimmy hadn't ended up together. She hadn't been right for him, and it was very possible that he hadn't been right for her either. What had upset her yesterday was the conviction that she was going to die alone. The only relationships she'd had since Jimmy were completely unhealthy. Davis, and now a pretend-engagement to Oliver Queen. But what Oliver was offering to do was incredibly kind. She wouldn't have to go to the wedding alone. And even though she wanted to refuse his offer, she couldn't bring herself to do it.

"Are you sure?" she managed to ask. "It's next spring. That's a long time to keep up the charade. And there's the holidays to consider."

Clearly he had expected this suggestion. "Like I said, it's been kind of fun so far. And my parents are in love with you. Which is insane because they never like the women I _actually_ date, by the way. So I figure when we have the eventual break-up, we'll keep it amicable. That way nobody gets too hurt. Besides, I wouldn't mind too much if you stuck around when this is over." He studied her response to his words carefully. "I mean, I'd definitely consider you a friend at this point. I think it would be a shame to lose that."

Chloe nodded. Maybe she was just too hungover to think, but what he was saying sounded good. Oliver was a friend at this point. Definitely. You couldn't go through all this together and not be friends one way or another. She didn't like the idea of him going out of her life completely when they finally ended things. And if she were being honest with herself, she wasn't too eager to end things in the first place. It would be nice having someone around during the holidays. It was usually the loneliest time of year for her. Just having a reason to stave off all the comments on her single status would be a relished improvement on past years.

"Okay," she said. "So we keep it up until after Jimmy and Kara's wedding."

Oliver grinned. "Great. Now you'd better finish up with that and get in the shower. We've got to get ready for this party tonight." He headed towards the door. "I'll get you some coffee when your stomach can handle it."

She nodded and then a second later she called after him. "Wait! What do you mean, '_we'_ have to get ready?


	15. Chapter 15

—15—

"It's perfect for you!"

Chloe smiled uncertainly.

"But you must stop wearing sunglasses indoors, dear. It's a tacky look."

At this Chloe laughed. "I just have a bit of a headache. I promise that I'll take them off before I leave." Having them off long enough for someone to do her makeup had been torture earlier that afternoon, but admittedly, her headache was definitely fading. Oliver's breakfast in bed had distinctly helped, and she was starting to feel like herself again. She never would have let him take over her business for the morning if he had asked her, but she was secretly glad that he'd done it without asking. Having her dress fitting and the rest of her evening prep done within the comfort of Oliver's guest room was a welcome relief compared to her usual custom of getting ready in her office.

"Just don't smudge your makeup," the designer warned, eyeing the gold paint on Chloe's face nervously.

Chloe smiled wanly. "Don't worry, I asked permission to have the sunglasses on, and she said it wouldn't hurt anything."

"Well then, let's get you dressed, dear—But what have you done to your hand!" he asked in horror, spotting the bandage on Chloe's hand. He grabbed it and examined it, muttering to God for help in Italian. But then he snapped his fingers. "It's all right! I have the perfect solution. Sofia!" he called to his assistant. "Run. Get the gloves."

The little waif of an Italian girl obediently dashed out the door.

Chloe frowned. "She doesn't have to do that. I'll be fine."

"They're in the van," he reassured her. "And you are not wearing my masterpiece with bloody bandages. What have you done to yourself?"

"It was an accident…some broken glass."

He rolled his eyes. "You're lucky you're so beautiful, darling." He arranged the dress for Chloe to step into, and she did so carefully, avoiding snagging anything on her heels. She dropped her robe at the last second and allowed him to lift the bodice and start lacing her in. As he cinched her in, she wondered grimly how long it would take to get out of this dress later in the evening.

Sofia was just returning with the gloves when Chloe heard Oliver walk in. She couldn't believe it hadn't occurred to her that Oliver would have to be her date this evening. But fortunately Benito had been up to the challenge of procuring Oliver a matching tuxedo to Chloe's costume, although he had berated her for not giving him more notice.

The fundraiser was for the Star City Metropolitan Museum, and the theme was precious gems. Everyone was required to wear something that fit with the theme, and Benito had decided to use Chloe's blonde hair to their advantage, dressing her as gold itself. The gown was stunning, a tight bodice hugging her body, with one silk sleeve draped off her left shoulder. The A-line skirt bloomed from her waist Cinderella style, and as beautiful as it was, she couldn't help feeling a bit uncomfortable, as though she were taking up more space than she was allowed. She shook the thought from her head while Sofia rushed to her with a pair of long ivory gloves that came up past her elbows.

"Perfect," Benito decided. "Well. Almost perfect." He eyed the sunglasses vindictively, and Chloe sighed, permitting him to take them from her. "Now she is perfect!" he said more enthusiastically. "Is she not, Mr. Oliver?"

Chloe had forgotten he was in the room. He had been looking down as he arranged his cuff links, but he looked up as Chloe turned toward him and they both paused.

Chloe had never seen Oliver look so handsome. His tux fit him perfectly, a flawless cut. His bowtie and vest were gold to match her dress, and he had apparently allowed Chloe's makeup artist to spray some gold paint in his hair like she had done to Chloe. He looked like a sun god. She found herself having difficulty swallowing as her eyes roved over him.

Oliver was having difficulties of his own. Chloe looked like gold personified. The makeup artist had painted a gold mask around her eyes and painted her hair like his, but she had also dusted Chloe's creamy white shoulders with gold paint, giving Oliver an irresistible urge to touch them to see if she would turn him to gold. And the dress…she was a princess. A real-life fairy tale, draped in gold silk and ribbons.

Benito sniffed and wiped a tear from his eye. "Speechless. Young love! Ugh!"

He melodramatically collected himself before giving Chloe a hand to help her down from the stool she was on, and Oliver caught a glimpse of gold stilettos.

Chloe felt a need to break the silence. "You look rather dapper, Oliver," she grinned.

Oliver came back to himself. "You look stunning," he replied generously.

Benito tsked. "She is more than stunning! She is perfection!" He kissed the air on either side of Chloe's cheeks. "My masterpiece. You wear it beautifully, my darling. You will be the envy of every one there."

"I'm sure she will," Oliver said. "But now I think we need to get going.

"Of course!" sniffed Benito. "You must arrive in time to make a scene!"

Chloe gave Oliver a helpless look and he came to offer her his arm.

"It's lovely, Benito," Chloe said appreciatively before accepting Oliver's support. "But I don't know how we'll both fit in the elevator," she whispered so only Oliver could hear.

Oliver laughed. "We'll make it work. Here." He held the door of the elevator open for her to step onto.

"Goodnight, Benito!" Chloe called over her shoulder while Oliver hit the button.

Benito clucked his tongue in approval.

Once the door closed, Oliver turned to CHloe. "So school me again on what's happening here? I was able to get the gist of it from Edward, but I want to be sure."

"Thank God he had the foresight to get you a ticket. It never even occurred to me," Chloe rolled her eyes. "Anyway, the tickets purchased entertainment and the dinner. The rest of the proceeds go toward the new wing that they're trying to build. Rumor has it that they're already lining up some sort of Russian exhibit. You know the theme. Other than that…just, the usual, really. Oh, Dinah's singing something apparently. They contracted the Star City Orchestra to provide the entertainment. So we should see her there."

"Oh great. That should be fun. I haven't seen Dinah perform in a while."

Chloe nodded. "Neither have I. I'm looking forward to it."

"How are you feeling by the way?"

She laughed a little. "Better. Thanks. And thanks for looking after me this morning. And last night."

"You had a pretty rough night."

Chloe groaned. "I'm so ashamed. I can only imagine how much I ruined your night."

He shrugged. "Nah. Look, if you ever need to talk to someone, I'm here."

She threw him a look.

"Hey! Seriously! You may as well talk to someone who won't judge you."

She studied him for a moment before deciding he was in earnest. "Thanks. And…it goes both ways."

The corner of his mouth turned up in a smile and they stepped off the elevator together, quickly hopping into the back of a limo that was pulled up by the curb. Oliver helped Chloe lift her skirt into the car.

"So how's work been lately?" Chloe asked after a while, tired of the quiet.

Oliver let out a short laugh and leaned his head back against the seat.

"That bad, huh?"

"Ah, it's not that it's that _bad_, it's just…_draining_. I'm just glad things are at least going well for the company. Otherwise it would really be a nightmare right about now. But everything's going smoothly with the transition to the Quip for that factory, and we're actually making a move to switch more of Queen Industries' outlets to a tablet manual. So far it's really popular with the board and the management at the factory."

"That's great, Oliver!"

He let out a short laugh. "Yeah, but it's also a lot of extra work. Lot of late nights."

"Yeah, you've been getting home later than me half the time. And that's saying something."

"I think we got spoiled that weekend at your friends' wedding. All that time off just made it even harder to come back to the grindstone."

Chloe laughed. "Yeah. Although that weekend was admittedly a bit much."

"Oh, what. Too much fun for you, Sullivan?"

She elbowed him. "Contrary to what you seem to believe, I do have fun now and again, Queen."

Oliver faked a shocked expression. "You? Fun? Never! I refuse to believe it."

"Oh shut up."

"Seriously. When was the last time you had a little fun? And your friends' weddings don't count."

Chloe's lips were already forming an indignant response when the limousine came to a halt and the driver began helping her out, lights flashing wildly around her as she heard the clicking of cameras.

"Miss Sullivan! This way!"

"Who are you wearing?"

"Is it true that you're hiring an unknown designer for your wedding gown?"

"When's the wedding!"

If possible, they became still more demanding when Oliver stepped out of the car, hurling questions at him about Robert Queen's retirement, whether Oliver had any major changes planned for his father's company, and rumors that he and Chloe were planning to have children out of wedlock.

Chloe answered a few questions appropriately, making sure to credit Benito for her dress and Oliver's tux while carefully dodging any questions about their relationship, although Oliver seemed to find these the questions the most amusing. Chloe found him toying with the media a bit more than necessary after politely excusing herself from the representative from _People_ magazine.

"We haven't decided on a location yet," Oliver was telling a tabloid writer who was literally hanging on his every word. "Chloe wants to get married in a church and I want to go somewhere exotic—"

"Oliver!" Chloe tugged on his arm, trying not to laugh too much and give him away. Oliver gave one of the cameras a knowing look, shrugging helplessly as she dragged him away. "You have no self-control," she accused.

Oliver just laughed. They checked Chloe's purse and were escorted to the marble hall containing the museum's precious stone and geological exhibits.

Just as the door was opening, Chloe added over her shoulder with a teasing look, "And who said I didn't want to get married in an exotic location?"

Oliver looked heartily surprised and then amused. "Oh she has _jokes_ now."

Chloe just smirked but was soon distracted by the fact that they had entered a room full of Star City's finest and richest, but no one was talking, and everyone was looking at her and Oliver.

"What's going on?" Oliver asked, confused by the strange hush.

Chloe lifted her shoulders ever so slightly to indicate her confusion, then whispered, "Our table is over there," she nodded him to the far wall.

As he took her in that direction, Oliver began to understand what people were looking at. In a sea of sapphires, emeralds, amethysts, and rubies, Chloe's pale, warm gold dress and even his tux stood out spectacularly. Judging by the nonplussed look on Chloe's face, he assumed that even though she worked with the fashion industry, she hadn't planned this. He had to appreciate that she looked like an entirely different species from every other woman there. Where other women had taken the gem stone theme more literally, draping themselves in large, glittering jewelry at every available opportunity, Chloe was devoid of jewelry except for two small gold earrings. There was a woman dripping with sapphires with blue eyeshadow to match here, a gentleman in a bedazzled bow tie there, and a couple with matching ruby crusted masks there.

"It occurs to me," Oliver said, pulling out Chloe's chair for her to sit, "does 'gold' actually qualify as a gem stone?"

Chloe was arranging her skirt so that she could sit comfortably in the chair, and she looked up at him. Following his train of thought, she looked around the room and nodded. "I see your point," she nodded, smirking a little. "Well, Benito got what he wanted. Everyone will be talking about him now."

Oliver smiled. He was impressed with Chloe for choosing a lesser known designer to do her gown for the evening. It would be a big boost for his career to have the editor of _Whistle_ endorsing him.

"Oliver, Chloe! How are you both?"

Chloe turned to her right to see Laura and Robert Queen approaching, the former with her arms extended delightedly. She was wearing a slender, drop-waisted silk gown in peridot green that was incredibly becoming on her. A matching green ribbon was woven into her hair, and from her neck she wore a gold thread of peridots—simple but effective. Chloe noticed for the first time how perfectly the gemstone matched Mrs. Queen's eyes. Robert Queen looked equally dashing to his son in a coordinated green cummerbund and tie.

Glancing around the table, Oliver noted that someone had—quite naturally—presumed to seat him and Chloe at the same table as his parents. He'd been vaguely aware that his parents were attending, since his mother was particularly attached to the museum. But in all the rush to get him ready at the last minute, he'd forgotten all about their attendance. He watched as Chloe immediately stood from the chair, in spite of all the trouble she'd gone through to settle into it.

"Mrs. Queen!" Chloe greeted happily, embracing her supposed future mother-in-law.

"Oh, Chloe!" Laura shook her head. "You have to at least call me 'Laura' for now, I beg you!"

Chloe grinned. She supposed she could do 'Laura.' It was just 'mom' that might be taking things a little too far. She ignored a fleeting thought that she already felt as attached to Laura Queen as she was to her own mother.

"I see you're running late as usual, son," Robert greeted Oliver, lifting his water-glass from the table and taking a swig.

"Hey, I am always on time. It's that one that needs all the extra time to get ready," Oliver gestured in Chloe's direction.

Robert smiled, watching his wife talk to Chloe. "Ah yes, but they're always worth waiting on, aren't they?"

Oliver raised an eyebrow at his dad and looked back at the women. "Yeah…" he said after a second, "I see what you mean."

The women sunk into a conversation about Chloe's work, and Oliver sunk into a study of Chloe. He was pulled out of his reverie, however when a representative from the museum took the stage, thanking everyone for the support and some other rhetoric that he only half listened to. The woman drew in his full attention at last when she introduced Dinah Lance. Dinah appeared in a sultry black evening gown, glittering beneath the lights, a large, intricate necklace of black onyx splayed across her throat and chest. An orchestra struck up behind her and she began to sing an aria from _Don Giovanni_, which was scheduled to begin filming in the coming year, with her as Elvira. It was publicity of course, but it was awe-inspiring publicity. When Dinah sang, the world froze, glass trembled, chandeliers shook. Oliver glanced at Chloe from the corner of his eye. She was utterly still, entranced as she watched her friend, a breath caught on her lips as if she had begun to take it and forgotten halfway to finish, afraid of moving. She looked beautiful, he realized, wholly enchanted by the music, her face shining in response to such beauty. Oliver tried to remember the story of the opera, and Dinah's character. He attempted to recall which scene or even which act it was from, but he failed. He remembered that Elvira was jaded by the womanizer Don Giovanni, and in the beginning vowed vengeance on him. But as soon as she was persuaded to believe that the Don cared for her—although he did not—she took pity on him and tried to protect him from those who were calling for his head. He thought of Chloe's past romances, these men who had hurt her so much. How would she feel on seeing Jimmy again? Would she always have a weakness for Davis? The thoughts swirled in his head, making him feel dizzy and upset. Surely she would never return to either of these men. For one thing, she would never go after Jimmy, who was engaged. Davis…well, he was out of her life. What were the chances she would ever allow him back in? Even if he had cleaned up his act? Those wounds clearly ran too deep. But he was beginning to see the softer side of Chloe. Like Elvira, she only sought to be loved. Underneath the jaded facade, she was as tender as any other ingenue.

The music stopped and the entire room stood in applause. Encores were demanded as Dinah humbly swept a deep curtsy, revealing the seductive slit in her dress running all the way up to her thigh. Oliver grinned momentarily, thinking of A.C. watching this somewhere. He would be desperate to get his hands on his wife later, just to show off to everyone that she was with him. They were a perfect team, Dinah and A.C., and he couldn't imagine a couple better suited for one another. Dinah gracefully raised a hand and the crowd hushed instantly, returning to their seats. She turned to the maestro and whispered something in her ear. He grinned broadly and nodded.

Within the first notes the room recognized the tune and roared into applause, Chloe and himself among them. The orchestra had to repeat the first several lines simply to allow the noise to die down and Dinah to begin. It was "Habanera", from _Carmen_, the role that had made Dinah famous, that had made her Star City's "Black Canary." She would always be remembered for that role.

Chloe was positively beaming now, leaning forward unconsciously, as if it would bring her closer to Dinah's performance. Suddenly her demeanor changed, and a broad grin stretched across her face. Oliver turned to look at Dinah, wondering what had caused the alteration. Dinah had stepped down and found her husband's table. A.C., blushing wildly, had stood and offered her a single red rose, sticking it behind her ear when she leaned forward. She winked flirtatiously at him for everyone else's benefit before returning to the stage.

They were the perfect double act. He felt a pang of something like longing just watching it. He had thought he was a long way from wanting to settle down, but seeing how happy his closest friends were drove it home just how badly he wanted that for himself.

The song ended to thunderous applause and Dinah graciously sunk into another deep curtsy before gesturing to the orchestra. The maestro bowed, and helped Dinah off the stage, where she went to sit beside her husband.

Oliver turned to say he wasn't sure what to Chloe, only to discover that someone had gotten there before him.

"Chloe, it's so good to see you!" Harvey Dent was standing beside her and Chloe was radiantly beaming at him. A leftover effect of the music, of course, Oliver reminded himself, not in response to Dent's presence.

"Harvey!" she greeted delightedly, rising to hug him. Oliver felt his brow crease slightly. What was Harvey Dent doing here? Star City was a long trip from Gotham. Chloe seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "I wasn't expecting you here!" she said.

"I was visiting a friend in town, so I thought I'd come make a contribution," his toothy smile was broad, and he was obviously pleased to see Chloe.

Oliver cleared his throat, deciding to break up this little scene. "Harvey," he said, extending his hand, "good to see you."

"And you, Oliver!"

"These are my parents, Robert and Laura." The Queens rose as they were introduced, and Harvey graciously greeted each of them. "Mother, Dad, this is Harvey Dent, the District Attorney in Gotham."

"We've heard of you," Robert said pleasantly. "Very impressive work you're doing out there, young man. "You should be proud."

Harvey humbly accepted the compliment before turning to Oliver. "Well, I wondered, Oliver, whether I could steal your fiance for a dance."

"Of course you can," Chloe answered for Oliver, who had a reflexive 'no' perched on his tongue. He swallowed it and nodded.

"Of course." The words sounded oddly forced. He watched Dent lead Chloe away as the Star City Orchestra struck up a waltz.

Chloe smiled brightly as Harvey pulled her into a slow turn about the dance floor. She had always liked Harvey. He was handsome, and charming, and, so far as she could tell, good.

"How have you been, Chloe? I feel like I haven't seen you in ages."

Chloe smiled. "I've been so busy. Swamped with work, family stuff, not to mention weddings to attend—"

"—and plan," he added, giving her a knowing look.

Chloe blushed. In all honesty, she had made little to no attempts at planning her own fake wedding, but there was no reason to tell Harvey that. Instead, he misinterpreted her flush of color completely.

He grinned. "I have to admit, I was…disappointed to hear about you and Queen."

Chloe wasn't sure how to respond to that, but she felt herself stiffen in Harvey's arms instinctively. She felt guilty for what she had done to Harvey. Accepting a date with him after years of pleading on his side, and then suddenly getting engaged to another man. It was this side of scandalous, and she felt bad if she had hurt him. "Listen…Harvey, I—"

"Don't worry about it," Harvey said quickly, gently spinning her around—quite a feat in her elaborate dress— "I had heard the rumors about you two for a while. I was surprised to hear you were engaged, but not surprised you were together."

Again, she didn't know the best way to respond to that. She settled on silence. She allowed herself to wonder, if things were different, if that trashy reporter had never printed a rubbish announcement about her and Oliver, if Oliver had never suggested they scam all their friends and family, and if it hadn't gotten so completely out of hand, where would she and Harvey be right now? They had been friends for a long time, and Harvey had always hinted at a romantic interest. Because of her issues with men, she had always shut him down. But she had enjoyed his company that night in Gotham, had enjoyed being the object of someone's desire. Would they be dating now? Would she have finally given in to more than "just this one date" at last?

She tried to remember what it was that had always held her back from ever committing to more than a strictly platonic friendship with Harvey. It was a struggle to remember, particularly now, when he was looking so dashing in his tux, wearing that winning smile of his. But there had been something. Something there behind that smile that had held her back. And it was his next statement that brought it all flooding back to her.

"How are things between you two? Because you know if it's not working…." He trailed off, a bit too much the gentleman to actually go any further, but she knew him, and she knew that the thought was still there. He wouldn't actually say it, but it was there just the same. He would be waiting int he wings for her relationship to fail. He _expected_ it to fail. And he wanted to be there to pick up the pieces when it did.

She realized it now. Something she'd never quite been able to put her finger on in all that time. There was a little part of him that reminded her of Davis. He was good and decent, but there was this…_potential_. Something underneath the surface that frightened her. In Davis, she had found that little bit of darkness, that _edge_, exciting, enticing. She felt like the woman who tamed the beast. But she had learned from her experience with Davis. It was no longer a turn-on, it was a warning bell. She knew, deep down, that all men, all_ people_, had that potential to be good or bad one way or the other. Her relationship with Davis had taught her to steer clear of those in which it dwelt so much closer to the surface.

She was opening her mouth to lie, to tell him all about how wonderful her relationship with Oliver was, and that she couldn't imagine being with anyone else. She was spared actually having to do it when someone interrupted her.

"Mind if I cut in?"

Oliver had been watching Chloe dance with Dent. He'd seen her blushing and her limited commentary on whatever Dent had to say to her, and finally he had decided that he didn't care for it. He wasn't sure how he expected Chloe to react, but he was pleasantly surprised to see she lit up at his presence. Dent noticed it, too. His smile wasn't the wide, mischievous grin he had sported for Chloe, but it was sincere. "Not at all. You two enjoy your evening. Chloe," he added, "I hope to see you again soon. Don't leave tonight without saying goodbye." He handed Chloe off to Oliver, who smoothly wrapped an arm around her and continued the dance.

"Doing all right?" he asked, once Dent was out of earshot.

Chloe smiled, but it wasn't her usual megawatt. It was more demure, even timid. "Yeah, I'm good."

"You two have a lot to catch up on, then?" he asked, trying to sound casual, not entirely sure why it didn't feel casual.

Chloe hesitated a second before shaking her head. "Not really. Harvey and I…we always belonged to a different story, you know what I mean?"

Oliver wasn't sure what she meant by that, but he chose not to question it. "So have I driven him wild with jealousy and prepped the way for you to fall into his willing arms once we break up?" he joked. He wanted to make it sound like he was pointing out an advantage to this arrangement for Chloe, but instead she looked a little pale at the suggestion. Not wanting to press, he quickly changed courses. "You never answered my question, by the way."

Chloe looked confused. "Question?"

"In the limo earlier. I asked you when was the last time you had some real fun?"

She was so surprised by this that she laughed, and Oliver silently congratulated himself for getting her to smile. "I don't know, Oliver. Even if I tell you that I know how to have fun, I strongly suspect that you and I have different ideas of fun, so it won't matter to you anyway."

He grinned. "Good. Now that we've cleared up that you _don't_ know how to have fun," he teased, ignoring her protests, "I vote we take next weekend to go out and have a good time. No work, no cell phones or e-mails, no family obligations. Just good old fashioned fun."

Chloe was pressing her lips together, trying not to smile. Finally she agreed. "Fine, whatever you want. But only because I can tell you won't let go of this until I give in."

Pleased, Oliver gently spun Chloe around, glancing around the room to see what else was going on. He'd barely noticed the first song transitioning into another, and he saw that Dinah was preparing to sing again. Dent was off talking to business associates. His parents were dancing as well. Around the perimeter of the room, various photographers were covering the event for their publishers. He imagined that _Whistle _had a photographer here somewhere as well.

Chloe was steeling herself. "Oliver…what happened last night? I remember something about smashing a bottle but not a lot else. I know I was…kind of a mess…I'm just wondering…I mean…I hope I didn't tell you anything…" she searched for the right word "…_embarrassing_. Or that made you uncomfortable." She searched his face nervously. When he hesitated to respond, she groaned. "Oh God, what did I say?" she pleaded.

Oliver thought carefully. It was one thing for her to confide in him when she was drunk. He had just been a warm body, the person who stumbled across her when she was vulnerable. She could keep her secrets. The important ones anyway. "Well," he said, putting on his very best impersonation of a douchebag, "not much. Except about this Jimmy guy getting married, which we talked about earlier. And that we're gonna keep playing the game until after his wedding. And…" he grinned slyly at her, "I found out it's been _way_ too long since the last time you had sex."

Chloe stumbled, and Oliver quickly took a stronger lead, tightening his grip on her waist to carry her smoothly through the steps. "Oh my god oh my god oh my god…" Chloe muttered, her face bright red with humiliation.

All right, maybe he'd put on the act a little too well. He took pity on her. "Listen, Chlo, you should just know…" he paused, frowning. _What should she know?_ "You should know that you deserve sex."

Chloe let out a high pitched flustered laugh. "Excuse me."

"I'm serious. You deserve a boyfriend and eventually a fiance and then a husband. And to be treated well. And respected. And you deserve really good, toe-curling, earth shattering sex with someone who wants to make you feel good, not someone who wants to take something from you or who expects more than you're willing to give."

Chloe's mouth was open slightly. She narrowed her eyes. "What _exactly_ did I say last night?"

"Nothing much, I swear. I'm just making an observation. You're a good person. And when we get out of this, I just want to make sure that you end up with the right guy. So I think someone needed to tell you that. Whatever you've been punishing yourself for or protecting yourself from…just…you've done your penance, okay? And you don't have to worry about being safe because I will personally bring great harm to anyone who so much as causes you to shed a single tear." He stopped himself, surprised. He hadn't meant to say that. But no sooner had he done so than he realized it was true. Chloe was his friend, and he looked after his friends, right? So there was nothing wrong with him wanting to tear apart anyone who brought her pain. It was a completely natural feeling. He just felt particularly protective because he now realized how much she'd been through.

Chloe was staring at him, not sure what to say. Her face was still flushed, and she could feel her heart beating more loudly. Butterflies were swarming uncomfortably in her stomach.

Oliver looked around again for a change of subject, anything to lighten the mood. "So is _Whistle_ covering the event tonight?"

Taken aback by the sudden diversion, Chloe nodded. "Paul's over by the punch bowl," she nodded in his direction. As she said it, she started to notice that a lot of the cameras were trained on them.

"So did you hear that our kiss is worth about a million dollars?" Oliver asked, his mind following her tracks.

She laughed. "One? I heard two."

He grinned. "Really? I feel like we could seriously top that. Wanna cut one of these poor slobs a break?" he asked.

Chloe looked at him sharply. "No."

He smirked. "Aw, Sullivan, I'm wounded. Am I that repulsive?"

She shook her head. "No, it's just…that's…."

"Hey, we have to keep this relationship looking convincing. Don't you think someone will find it _odd_ that we haven't made any public displays of affection at all? We're young and in love. We're not supposed to be able to keep our hands off each other." He winked.

Chloe's pulse was quickening. But it wasn't for the right reasons. She should be annoyed with him, but instead she kept thinking about how good it had felt to kiss him at the engagement party. Part of her wanted to know if that had just been a fluke or if it could really be that good a second time. "Well…" she started, glancing nervously at the photographers. "I mean, if you think it's necessary…" she joked.

Oliver grinned. "Definitely." Why was he trying so hard to kiss her again? He was lightening the mood. That was it.

Why were they both feeling so serious, then?

Slowly, Oliver raised a hand to her chin, tilting it up towards him. He was just making it dramatic for the photographers, that was all. Her lips parted and he could feel her breathing stagger, so he brought her a little closer to steady her. Slowly, giving her time to chicken out, he leaned down, bringing his lips so close to hers that they brushed together in a feather-light touch. She gasped and he swooped in, covering her mouth with his. A small, high-pitched noise escaped the back of Oliver's throat, and he had to control himself.

_The hell am I doing?_ he asked himself, drawing back quickly. Chloe was staring at him wide eyed, and he could see beneath the gold paint on her face that she was blushing even more deeply than before.

"Well," he said tightly, not sure how to play it off. "I'd say that should be worth at least three mill." He winked, acting much more nonchalant than he felt.


	16. Chapter 16

—16—

Chloe woke with a start, eyes flying open. She glanced at the clock. It was only 4:00 in the morning. They'd barely been home from the gala for an hour and a half. Why in the world was she awake.

There was a thud down the hall and she sat up. Was someone in the apartment? Another light thud.

_Holy shit, there's someone in the apartment. Is Oliver awake? Does he know?_ She looked around, panicking. All of her things were in Oliver's room except two: her robe and her tazer. What about her purse? Silently she cursed herself. She'd been so tired when she got in that she'd dropped it on the kitchen counter. She would have to get to it to use her phone to call the police. She suddenly wished she'd been spending the night in Oliver's room. She wouldn't feel so frightened right now if he were there.

Silently, she slipped out of bed and pulled on the robe, cinching the sash tight, as if it could somehow protect her. Opening the nightstand drawer as quietly as she could, she pulled out the tazer that she kept there—_For exactly this situation,_ she reminded herself. It's weight in her hand calmed her slightly.

As quietly as she could, she crept down the hall, doing her best not to breathe loudly. Peering around the corner, she spotted a man's silhouette, leaning over what must be some sort of bag in the dark.

Squinting through the dark, she saw her purse on the bar just past him. He was facing the other way. If she could just get to it, and hold him off long enough to dial the number….

But just as she took another step out from the hallway, the man straightened up and looked straight at her. Chloe completely lost her head and shrieked, holding the tazer out in front of her. "Stay back!"

"Chloe!" the burglar raised his hands in alarm. Only it wasn't a burglar. It was—

"OLIVER!"

He felt along the wall and flipped a light switch, making Chloe's eyes hurt. She blinked them rapidly.

"What the _hell _are you doing?" she demanded, her heart still pounding in her chest.

Oliver was looking at her like she was crazy. "Would you mind putting down the…jeez what is that, a light-saber?"

Chloe realized she was still holding it out in front of her and lowered her arms. "It's a tazer. I thought you were a burglar," she said sheepishly. "What are you _doing?_" she asked again, feeling totally stupid and suddenly flushing when she remembered the awkward car ride home that evening. She crossed her arms across her chest uncomfortably.

"I just got a call that I need to go to Metropolis for a few days. The plane's departing as soon as I get there. I didn't want to wake you so I was just going to leave a note.

Slowly, Chloe took in the fact that there was luggage behind him. He was dressed in a full suit, and had clearly showered since the gala. She had washed her face but was well aware that there were still flecks of gold paint left on her. She tightened her robe, feeling slightly stupid. She yawned deeply, exhaustion catching up with her now that the threat had passed. "Oh," she said, still feeling a bit sheepish. "Right."

Oliver was smirking at her. "So…you thought I was a robber. And your solution was to get out of bed and…taze me?"

He was making her tired. She sunk onto a bar stool. "I was trying to get to my cell phone." She gestured her purse.

He shook his head, laughing a little at her. "Chloe, do me a favor, if anyone ever does actually break into this place, especially if I'm not here, promise me that you'll stay in your room and lock the door?" He looked at her pleadingly.

Chloe frowned stubbornly. "I'm not going to sit around and panic while someone's intruding in my home."

Oliver sighed wearily, rubbing his hand over his face before glancing at the clock. "C'mere," he said, beckoning her to follow him back to his room. She stumbled tiredly after him, keeping a safe, arm's-length distance between them. In the room, he pointed to a small switch on a control panel on the wall. She had always assumed it was just for lights and thermostat control. "This," he said, "is a manual switch to flip the alarm. In the bizarre circumstance that someone is actually able to get past all the security in this building, and somehow get into the penthouse…" he stared at her and she felt a bit sheepish again, "hit this switch. You might as well sleep in here while I'm gone anyway," he shrugged. "All your stuff's in here. It will just make it easier on you."

Chloe nodded. "Thanks. I'll remember that."

"Good." Oliver shook his head as he walked out, muttering under his breath something about "pint-size" and "tazers."

Chloe watched him go, and then, too tired to drag herself back to the guest room, instead crawled into Oliver's bed and under the covers. She buried her face in his pillow and inhaled deeply. It smelled like his aftershave.

She was out in seconds.

A moment later, Oliver reappeared in the room. "And another thing, I—" he stopped short when he saw her and chuckled. He turned out the light and quietly closed the door behind him. He was getting to like that woman a bit too much.

* * *

><p>"<em>Chloe, honey, what are you doing today?"<em>

Chloe's eyebrows went up. "Hi, Mrs.…I mean, Laura. Well, I'm at the office right now, actually."

"_Chloe! On a Saturday!" _Laura Queen chided lightly. _"Oliver told me you were almost as much of a work-a-holic as he was."_

"Hmm, he sets the bar pretty high," Chloe thought of Oliver's abrupt disappearance to Metropolis last night, and again of his late appearance to Dinah and A.C.'s wedding.

Laura sighed a little sadly. _"Yes, he takes after his father that way. Anyway, what time will you leave today?"_

"Well, I was going to finish up around noon and have some lunch."

"_Wonderful, I'll pick you up at noon then."_

"Wait, what?"

"_Unless you have plans?"_

"No, I just—"

"_Great, I've got the most wonderful treat for you. A friend's cousin turned out to be this lovely pastry chef who studied in France, and she agreed to set up a taste-testing for us this afternoon."_

"Taste-testing?"

"_For the wedding, Chloe_," Laura laughed.

Chloe nearly asked "Whose wedding?" before she realized Laura meant _her_ wedding. "Oh!" she said instead, genuinely surprised. "Well…sure, I guess." There really wasn't any polite way to back out of this, and she realized that now that she and Oliver had committed to this farce for so much longer, at least _some_ semblance of a wedding would have to be put together. _I suppose I should e-mail Vera. And have Edward start making some lists of contacts._ She would, of course, pay everyone for their services even once they cancelled. _My own personal attempt to boost the economy,_ she thought wryly.

"_Oh, wonderful. I can't wait to see you. I'll see you at noon, then, sweetheart. Don't spoil your appetite!"_

"Okay, Laura," Chloe agreed. "I'll see you then."

She hung up and buzzed Edward. He appeared almost instantly, a questioning look on his face.

"I'm going to meet the Queen Mother this afternoon," she sighed. "And I'm going to need coffee so I don't seem like something the cat dragged in."

Edward made a delighted noise and clapped enthusiastically. "Wonderful. What are you doing with her?"

"Private cake-tasting."

"Ooh yum. I can't wait to go pick your outfit downstairs."

"Edward, I don't need an outfit. I'm dressed."

Edward glanced over his shoulder and looked her up and down. "Oh yes you do."

Chloe frowned and looked down. She looked _fine_.

Looking fine didn't stop Edward and Mia from having a field day dressing Chloe in samples from various designer's lines. Chloe might have protested more, being as tired as she was, but they kept a steady flow of coffee coming her way, so what did she care? She had a vague feeling that there was more important things she could be doing in the office, but she didn't much care. After two late nights in a row, she just didn't have energy left to be worried.

_Besides_, she thought, _things have been going surprisingly well_. Perhaps the universe was trying to prove something to her, or maybe she was just lucky. But even with all the time she'd taken off this summer, and even with all the distractions dealing with Oliver and her family lately, the magazine was running just as smoothly as ever. She'd always been so hesitant to let anything go slack, but the evidence was plain that nothing had suffered in her absence. It wasn't that she didn't feel needed. There was still plenty for her to do, and she'd been kept plenty busy. It was just that it was evident that the publication that she had rebuilt from the ground-up had become self-stabilizing. Everyone knew what needed to get done and it always got done. She looked at Edward and Mia, who were approving her current outfit—an ivory blazer with a gold cotton blouse and dark wash blue jeans. She knew that Edward, now helped persistently by the ever-more-useful Mia was largely owed for _Whistle's_ success. She made a mental note to give him a raise and a holiday bonus. And when Mia got out of college, she had every intention of offering her a full-time job.

It was nice, she decided as she took a sip of coffee, knowing that she was allowed to have a personal life, and that her life's work would survive. It was good having people that she could count on.

"Well, what do you think?" Mia asked eagerly.

Chloe sighed and set down the coffee. She stepped in front of the mirror. She turned to the left and then the right. "Yes," she smiled. "This will work."

"Excellent," Mia said cheerfully. "I'm getting good at this shit," she congratulated herself before heading toward the elevator.

Chloe watched her go and looked at Edward. He shrugged. "It's true. She picked this one out. I just found the shoes to match," he smirked, holding up a pair of ivory peep-toes.

She took them from him, grinning. "Thanks. Maybe I won't give her your job just yet."

Edward looked unfazed. "Just don't forget: She still can't get the espresso machine to work."

Chloe laughed. "You're right. Your job is definitely safe."

"You'd better get going," Edward said, glancing at his watch. "It's nearly time."

"Right," Chloe said. "You know the drill. Anything dire—"

"—gets put through directly to your cell phone. Anything else we either handle ourselves or push through to Monday for you to deal with personally. I know, love. I've steered the ship before." He winked at her and Chloe smiled.

"How's Darren, by the way?"

Edward offered his arm, steering Chloe toward the elevator. "He's fine. Visiting his mother in Monterrey."

"How thrilling. Have you met her yet?"

Edward looked embarrassed.

"You have! For God's sake, I'll be attending your wedding next I suppose."

He turned bright red and she gasped.

"I WAS KIDDING!"

* * *

><p><em>Jeez, even my assistant is getting married before me,<em> Chloe thought miserably.

"Is everything all right, Chloe, dear? You seem a bit put out."

Chloe looked at Laura across the table from her. "I'm sorry, Laura, I'm fine. I just have a lot on my mind."

"I'm exhausted, myself," Laura admitted. "That was a late night last night. I can't imagine how the boys must be feeling."

"Boys?"

"Robert took off this morning with Oliver. Such a tragedy."

Chloe looked confused.

"Didn't Oliver tell you?"

Chloe shook her head, feeling awkward. What was she supposed to know here? She lied quickly to cover for them both. "He didn't want to wake me, just left a note saying he'd call this evening."

Laura nodded. "Of course. Well, Chloe, last night one of our board members in Metropolis woke to find that her husband had died of an aneurism in his sleep. She just lost her son last summer, too. Car crash. Poor thing."

"Oh my God, how awful."

"I know it. Robert and Oliver both rushed out as soon as possible, of course. They're taking care of her right now. Robert's always cared so much about the people we work with. Board member or janitorial staff, he'd rush halfway around the world for them. And he's raised Oliver to be the same way. I remember last summer, Marian practically shipped Oliver out via Federal Express, just so he wouldn't miss the Curries' wedding on her account."

Chloe stared. "_That's_ why he almost missed the wedding? A board member lost her son?"

Laura frowned. "Yes, of course. What did he tell you?"

"I—" Chloe broke off, shaking her head. "Nothing, I just…I didn't realize."

Laura took a sip of her water. "Well, we both know it would have to be pretty serious to take him away from his best friend's wedding like that."

Chloe was blushing hotly. Why hadn't he just said that at the wedding? _Because he knew you were too busy judging him_, a little voice inside her head whispered. _And because he didn't want to bring any dark clouds over Dinah and A.C.'s special day. You don't talk about death at a wedding._

"Enough of this," Laura chided herself. "I didn't invite you over to be gloomy. I invited you over to have chocolate eclairs," she said, taking a little bite. "No reason for us girls to be lonely just because the men are away. What do you think?"

Chloe looked down at the miniature pastry sitting before her, lifted it with her finger and took a bite of it. It was heavenly. A light, flaky, buttery pastry surrounding creamy, smooth custard, and melt-in-your-mouth dark chocolate topping it off. "Oh my god it's perfection. Forget cake. We'll just have these." When the wedding was cancelled, she'd keep the pastries to comfort her in her loneliness. Lois could join in.

Laura laughed. "I agree. This is definitely going on the list. Have you put much thought into the kind of food you'd like to serve? I was thinking an entire dessert table. We could do a chocolate fountain if you like, but I'd rather not. As much as I love them—"

"You always end up with chocolate on your outfit. Me, too," Chloe laughed. "Maybe just chocolate covered strawberries instead. No mess that way."

"Perfect," Laura said, jotting down a couple of notes on the pad of paper she had with her. "Chocolate covered strawberries and definitely the eclairs."

"Madame?" a voice asked from the entry to the dining room.

"We're ready," Laura said, smiling. Amelie, the chef's assistant, then entered the room fully, carrying a large tray.

"I 'ave here some of ze cakes. Did you enjoy ze collection of pastries?" Amelie asked in excellent English, considering she was French.

"They were superb. You must give Claudette our compliments. This is a rare treat," Laura gushed.

"And ze bride?" Amelie asked, smiling at Chloe.

Chloe blushed at being addressed that way, but still grinned. "Absolutely phenomenal. The eclairs were our favorite."

"Fantastic. I shall inform Chef." She set down a platter of individual sized cakes, and whisked away the near-empty platter of pastries.

"I have to admit," Chloe beamed, "this is not how I pictured spending my day."

The small table, which had been set with a white linen table cloth, fine China, and polished silver, now held the platter of cakes, each iced or or smothered in whipped cream or fruit compote, a small toothpick with a label sticking out of them. They looked completely delicious.

Laura looked utterly delighted. "I know! I was so charmed when Marie mentioned her cousin was a pastry chef. When I told her my son was getting married, she insisted on setting something up. And what perfect timing with the boys leaving last night. It's nice to have company," she said happily, lifting a plate off of the tray. "What say we try something a little lighter first. Angel food cake with blueberry compote," she read off of the little card.

Trying not to feel guilty, Chloe lifted an identical plate and placed it in front of her.

"What do you think?" Laura asked.

"I think it's delicious."

"But is it what you want for your wedding?"

Chloe paused. It was such a direct question, but no one had ever asked her that before. What _did _she want for her wedding? Her future, perfect dream wedding that had a real groom?

She shook her head. "It's good, but I think I want something more…."

"Chocolatey?" Laura asked, lifting her eyebrows conspiringly.

Chloe smirked and nodded.

"But maybe we could have little bits of angel food cake on the dessert table," she said thoughtfully, taking another small bite. "It _is_ delicious. Very summery though? When were you two thinking as far as dates were concerned? I can't get Oliver to give me a straight answer. He just keeps saying it's all up to you."

Chloe couldn't help smiling. She thought for an answer carefully. "I was thinking, maybe late spring would be good. Before it gets too hot." And well after Jimmy and Kara's wedding.

Laura nodded. "I always think long engagements are smart. There's time to plan everything and do it just the way you want."

Chloe smiled. It was a shame that Laura and Oliver were a package deal. If only she could choose a fiance and a mother-in-law separately. She'd always thought that Lois was getting the ultimate prize in the in-law department, but Laura and Robert Queen were right up there, really.

"Oh, Chloe, try this one!" She pulled the card out of the cake before Chloe could read it and let her try it.

Chloe took a bite and gasped. "Oh my God."

"I know."

"Is that…coffee?"

Laura nodded. Between layers of buttery yellow cake was a layer of coffee mousse, and on top was a layer of light chocolate, whipped frosting.

"I don't need to try anything else. This is perfection."

Laura laughed. "Don't tell them that, they might take the tray away! And anyway, you can have more than one layer of flavor, you know."

Chloe laughed as well. "Good point. You're right. I'm going to need to try _all _of them."

* * *

><p>One week later Chloe was feeling guiltier than ever, but she'd also been talking to Laura Queen all week, which was a little too much fun.<p>

"All right, Laura," she said into her cell phone. "Yes, we'll talk later. No I just got home. Yes, I think that sounds lovely." She hung up and set her phone on the counter.

"Been talking to my mother?"

Chloe shrieked and turned around. "Oliver! For the love of God, DON'T DO THAT!"

Oliver was lying on the sofa with his hands behind his head, looking amused.

"When did you get back?" she asked. He'd been gone all week. He phoned a couple of times to check in with her, make sure she was sleeping in his room, etc., but other than that, she hadn't even known when to expect him home.

"Just a couple of hours ago," he said, getting up. "Dad's finishing things up in Metropolis and he'll take the jet home tomorrow morning."

"The jet?" Chloe asked faintly. She was well-off, considered herself in the upper class as far as the economy went, but she kept forgetting that Oliver was just…_loaded_.

"Yeah, I rode home commercial so he could take the jet when it was convenient. Told him I had to get back for tonight."

"What's tonight?"

He laughed. "Hey, I promised a night on the town, and a night on the town you shall have."

Chloe suddenly remembered Oliver's promise to spend the night 'having fun' with her. "Oh, Oliver, you didn't have to come back for that. You should have stayed!"

Oliver gave her a look. "Relax, Sullivan. My dad's got it taken care of. I did what I could, but according to him I have 'obligations to my fiance' or something." He winked at her.

Chloe wasn't fooled. "Is she okay?"

"What?"

"The woman on the board. Your mother told me she lost her husband."

"Oh." Oliver paused. Marian Solsvig was a lovely woman who was proof the bad things happen to good people. As if it hadn't been difficult enough that she lost her son in a car wreck earlier that year, to lose her husband so suddenly was just unfair. But Oliver and Robert had been looking out for her all week, and her nephew had arrived from New Zealand the other day to take care of her. She was a woman of faith and seemed to be taking things in stride, although Oliver could tell she was lonely. She'd been so charmed when Robert told her that Oliver was engaged. It was the happiest he saw her the whole week and she'd spent the rest of the visit asking Oliver all about Chloe. Since it made her happy, Oliver had obliged. When he left that morning, Marian had said the oddest thing.

"_Be sure you don't let that girl get away. You downplay it, but I can tell you love her. I can see it in your eyes when you talk about her."_

Oliver had mumbled something in response, and she had given him a warning look.

"_I mean it, Oliver. I can tell you're not expecting it to last—whatever you may say in front of your father—but you need to hold onto that girl. From what you've told me, she's something special. And people shouldn't go through life alone."_

He looked at Chloe. "She's doing fine. Some of her family arrived yesterday so she won't be so lonely for a while. She's a strong woman, I think. So what were you doing with my mom?"

Chloe blushed guiltily. "Planning our wedding. It started with a cake tasting and I thought 'Where's the harm?' and then cake tasting turned into color schemes which turned into table settings which turned into interviewing caterers…it got a little out of hand. She's commandeered Edward and completely booked me for the next couple of months. I've got dress shopping to do and venues to look at. I think she wants to hire a wedding planner…I feel so bad!" she groaned, plopping onto the bar stool.

Oliver shrugged. "Well, at least it's going back into the economy."

She laughed. "That's what I decided!"

"Never mind planning a fake wedding. You have obligations to your fake fiance tonight," Oliver said, pulling her off the stool and dragging her down the hall. He shut her in the bedroom and told her through the door, "Wear something sexy!"

"Where are we going?" Chloe asked curiously.

"I'm not telling."

She heard him vanish down the hall. "Hmmph," she grunted. She was tired. Part of her really didn't want to go out. But part of her was a little excited. _Wear something sexy._ Well, why the hell not? "CAN I WEAR JEANS?" she called through the door.

"YES!" he called unnecessarily from outside, mimicking her volume.

She stuck out her tongue at the door. "Well fine then," she muttered. "I will." She grinned, going over to the closet where all of her things were hanging. She pulled down a pair of designer jeans and a white halter with a low cowl-neck that hung down to her navel. Then she fished in her underwear drawer for a gold lace bandeau bra to wear underneath. He wanted sexy, he was going to get sexy.

"So have you seen the tabloids?" Oliver called from the kitchen while she finished getting dressed.

Chloe blushed. Oh, she'd seen them. "Why?" she asked, feigning ignorance.

"The city's obsessed with us. Calling us the 'golden couple' again."

"Funny." Chloe had been followed by the photos all week. Everywhere she turned, every news stand in the city was a display of her and Oliver dressed in their costumes from last weekend. "Golden Couple," "Golden Kiss," "Golden Engagement," were splayed across the cover of each and every one. Edward and Mia kept leaving them lying around the office, and she had finally succumbed to reading one of them. It had a full page shot of her and Oliver kissing on one side, and a close up in the corner with an article about how she and Oliver were the perfect couple and Star City's hope for the future, etc. The way they talked about her and Oliver…it was like the city owned them. People wanted to know everything about their personal lives, even if it was completely fictional, and somehow, Chloe found she didn't mind. It was endearing that she and Oliver were being portrayed as one of the people, somehow representative of the city's happiness. She knew it mostly had to do with Oliver taking over his father's company, but they tied her into it, too. His support system, his happiness.

And that kiss. Even she had to admit the photo made it look hot. _Hell, who am I kidding? It _was_ hot. _She could still feel it all the way down to her toes. Oliver was many things she hadn't considered when she first met him, and good kisser was definitely one of them. Maybe it had just been way too long since the last time she was kissed by a man. She rolled her eyes at herself. "Like I've forgotten the difference between a good kiss and a bad kiss," she muttered, pulling the top over her head. She wiggled into the jeans and zipped them up. She eyed herself in the mirror, twisting from one side to another. She had to admit, she liked herself in gold. It was a good color on her. She hadn't realized quite how much until last weekend.

She looked at her assortment of shoes and then poked her head out the door. "Am I going to be on my feet much?"

Oliver had a slice of cold pizza in his mouth and tore off a bite. "Yes," he said thickly through his mouthful of food.

Pouting, Chloe returned to the closet and ignored her stilettos for a pair of flats instead. When she walked out of the room, Oliver was washing down the pizza with a glass of water. He stopped when she appeared. "Damn, Sullivan," he shook his head. "You look good."

Chloe blushed. "Thanks." She looked him over. "You're going to—"

"Change? Yeah. Just waiting on you." He put the water glass by the sink and vanished to his room. Moments later he rematerialized, wearing jeans with a button down, the sleeves rolled up and top few buttons undone. "There," he said. "We match."

Chloe raised her eyebrow. His linen shirt had gold embroidered detail on the left side. "You're pathetic. People are going to think you're whipped."

"Too much?"

Chloe nodded, suppressing a giggle.

"You're the fashionista," he shrugged, but Chloe could tell he was just trying to make her laugh. Minutes later he was wearing another shirt, this one a solid dark brown.

"So where are we going?" Chloe asked as he got his keys and leather jacket.

"The garage."

Chloe snorted, following him out the door. "And after that?"

"I told you it's a surprise."

"I hate surprises."

"I guessed as much."

Chloe rolled her eyes. Oliver led her through the garage and stopped.

"Oh no."

"What?"

"I am not getting on that thing."

Oliver smirked. "Scared, Chloe?"

She glared at him. "I don't trust you."

"Oh, come on." Oliver said, straddling the bike and revving the engine. "Live a little."

She remembered once thinking that all Oliver needed was a mustache to twirl and he'd be the spitting image of the devil. It was true. He'd clearly been sent into this world to either tempt or kill her, whichever happened first.

Full of misgivings, Chloe nimbly mounted the bike and slipped on the leather jacket when he handed it to her. She hugged herself tightly to Oliver, trying not to squeal as he slowly rode them out of the garage. She knew he'd never let her live it down if she did.

All thoughts of dignity got lost in the wind when he took off on the highway. She shrieked and clung to him as tightly as possible, burying her face in his shoulder and squeezing her eyes shut tightly. "OH MY GOOOOOOD!"

Oliver laughed. "Relax!" he yelled over his shoulder. "You're safe!"

It wasn't for a good ten minutes that Chloe finally believed him enough to peak over his shoulder. They were clearly heading out of the city. "Where are we going!" she called loudly in his ear.

"The airport!"

"WHAT?"

Oliver just laughed and Chloe groaned. They were flying somewhere? Really? She hadn't even packed an overnight bag just in case. What if she needed something? Or they got stuck somewhere. But as far as Oliver was concerned, this was a healthy dose of spontaneity for her.

They pulled into a private airport and Oliver had to help peel Chloe away from him, she'd been holding on so tightly. She muttered something about horses.

"What?" he asked chuckling.

"I'm just remembering my pathetic attempts to ride horses at Calrk's farm. No good at that, no good at this."

"Hey, clearly you survived both."

Chloe just narrowed her eyes at him. "For goodness' sake would you tell me where we're going? I can't take this."

Oliver sighed. "Fine, if you must know, we're going to a small city out on the coast."

Chloe just looked confused. "Why? And wait, how are we getting there?"

"Plane, duh."

"I thought your father had the jet."

"He does. We're taking the other, smaller one."

He said it completely casually, heading toward a 8 passenger plane with a large Q stamped on the side. Chloe stared after him in disbelief. "Oh," she mumbled in an inaudible mocking voice. "The other one. Naturally."

Once they were in the air, Oliver started fixing Chloe a cocktail at the mini-bar, and Chloe looked out the window.

"Oliver?" she asked.

"Hmm?"

"You know you're spoiled rotten, right?"

He shrugged. "I know."

"Just so we're clear."

"Gotcha."

"So why did we have to leave town? Where are we going?"

"A club."

Chloe turned to look at him like he'd lost it. "We had to leave town…to _fly_ out of town…for a club?" she demanded. "Are you out of your mind?"

He handed her the drink. "No. I'm just more clever than you. You're tired of being hounded by the paparazzi, so I'm taking us somewhere where we won't be expected or recognized. The only ones who are expecting us are air traffic control, and as far as they're concerned, we're one of my father's partners borrowing his jet for business purposes."

She stared at him, beginning to see the genius of his plan. She sipped her drink.

"Admit it. I'm a genius."

"You're substantially less of a neanderthal than I thought you were," she allowed.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"As you should," she winked, leaning back in her seat to look out the window. There was definitely a benefit to this compared to her usual mode of travel. Sure, first class was nice, but it was still commercial. She still had to deal with luggage and waiting around in terminals and crying babies like every other passenger. And she had yet to meet a flight attendant who could make a cocktail as well as Oliver Queen.

At a small, private airport outside of a small, private town, there was a car waiting for Oliver and Chloe with dark tinted windows. Chloe was actually excited when they pulled up by the club, a vintage speak-easy with a dance floor on the upper level that had a view of the beach. It had been such a long time since she'd been out just as a regular person. These days she was always picking her itinerary as a place to be seen or a way to promote something. She couldn't remember the last time she'd gone somewhere just for the hell of it. And she couldn't wait to be unrecognized, just another woman in a bar.

Oliver had a light hand on her bare lower back as he escorted her inside, and he left her at a tall table to get them both drinks. She rested her chin on her hand and looked around. Although most of the dancing was upstairs, there was a dance floor and music playing here as well, clearly a Saturday night standard for a bar that was overflowing with the weekend crowd. She'd only been sitting there for a moment when someone approached.

"Wanna dance?"

She almost expected to see Oliver when she turned her head, but it wasn't him. Standing in front of her was a cute 20-something with a popped collar on his red polo and a cocky grin. Chloe grinned back. Why the hell not? He clearly had no idea who she was. "Sure," she said, getting down from the stool.

His over-confident smile faltered when he spotted her ring. "Sure you're fiance won't mind?" he asked, glancing around.

"Definitely not," Chloe laughed, imagining the absurdity of Oliver getting jealous of her dancing with someone. It was almost ludicrous.

It was also exactly what happened. Oliver didn't know what to think. He returned with a tray of shots for him and Chloe and could only stare in confusion. He wasn't confused about Chloe dancing with someone else. He was confused about how it made him feel.

_I took her out to show her a good time and that's what she's having_, Oliver told himself, leaning against the table and watching her. _So why the hell wasn't I picturing her having a good time with other guys? That's the biggest benefit of no one recognizing her here. She doesn't have to be attached to me._

His gut was squirming. He had no right, none whatsoever to be bothered by this. So why was he? He remembered what Marian had said about him and Chloe before he left Metropolis. He had assumed she was just one of the many fooled by their act, thinking he and Chloe were hopelessly in love. But had Marian seen something he hadn't? Was it possible that Oliver had feelings for Chloe?

He swallowed nervously, checking his phone for something to do, the music throbbing with his pulse and Chloe's hips.

_I like her all right_, he thought. _She's a great person. And I'm attracted to her…I mean she's beautiful and nice. Of course I'm attracted to her._

So why was it so impossible that maybe he had a…_thing_ for her? He'd assumed when he first met her that she wasn't his type. The more he got to know her, the more the excuses dwindled. _All right, so I've got a crush on her. That makes everything a little more complicated. But that doesn't mean I can afford to get confused. This whole thing with Chloe is going to go on a few months longer than expected, but it's going to come to an end. She needs to find somebody and I have no right to trap her into something just because I can't keep my hormones in check._

He was barely finishing the last thought when the source of his problems appeared by his side, eyes sparkling. "Is one of those for me?" she asked, sitting down.

Oliver grinned. "Three of them are for you."

"Fantastic," Chloe said, sitting down across from Oliver, who finally settled into his seat as well. She reached across from him and grabbed the salt shaker.

"What happened to your boyfriend?" Oliver asked, training his voice to sound casual.

"What? Oh—popped collar guy. He's gone to hit on someone else's fiance now," she laughed, wiggling the fingers on her ring hand in front of Oliver. "You know, this thing is great for warding off men. I can have fun with no expectations. It's awesome."

Oliver laughed, passing her a shot and a lime wedge. "Poor bastard," he said. He licked his wrist and salted it, watching Chloe do the same. "But no expectations—I'll drink to that," he proposed, raising one of the shots in the air. Together, they both tipped back the tequila, Chloe wincing as she grabbed a lime wedge and Oliver smacking his lips before following suit. "Having fun yet?" he teased.

Chloe faked a heavy sigh. "Not really. I mean, it's going to require a few more shots before I can get over the fact that I'm stuck here with you," she shot him a mischievous look.

"Oh, well, excuse me! Didn't mean to cramp your style!" Oliver joked.

Chloe laughed, reaching to take the salt-shaker back from him. She licked her wrist and sprinkled it with salt, but just as she was about to take the shot from the tray, he stopped her. He took the shot glass from her fingers, hand wrapped around her forearm, he covered the pulse point of her wrist with his mouth. She squirmed at the feel of his tongue on her skin, face growing hot. His eyes met hers as he slowly sucked on her skin before knocking down the shot. Finally, he released her arm and grabbed a lime wedge instead, eyebrows raised in challenge.

Getting over her sudden discomfort, Chloe grinned. "Fine, if that's how we're playing it." She imitated Oliver's actions, licking his wrist before salting it, sucking on it again before letting go to take the shot. She didn't meet his eyes as her tongue darted out quickly to get the salt off his wrist, and Oliver was enjoying the red flush in her cheeks, obvious even in the dim lighting of the bar. Flagging the waiter he indicated that they wanted another set of shots as he and Chloe both took their third from the current tray, emptying it except for the glass of lime wedges. Trying to act more risque than she felt, Chloe offered Oliver her wrist again, daring him to do it again. Quirking an eyebrow, he acquiesced. She suppressed a shiver as she watched him suck on her pulse point a second time. He salted it, licked it again and took his last shot.

Chloe could feel herself growing warm from the tequila already. He offered her his hand, and she pressed her lips together as she held his arm. Instead of his wrist she licked the side of his thumb and Oliver started to wonder what he'd been thinking when he started this.

_So much for not letting my hormones screw us both over_, he thought warily.

A few shots later, Oliver ignored Chloe's proffered wrist and pulled her out of the chair toward him.

_Note to self, _the remaining sober part of him thought, _I cannot be trusted with Chloe when I drink tequila. _ The alcohol was buzzing in his brain, making Chloe's skin far too appealing for her own good.

Chloe's stomach flipped as he pulled her toward him. She suddenly remembered going out with Katherine's wedding party…the last time she and Oliver had been drinking tequila together. She remembered dancing with him—and a mad desire to feel his lips on her shoulder. Later in the night, when they'd both gotten much more drunk, he'd actually done it, like he sensed what she wanted. Now, as if the sense memory had returned to him, too, he met her eyes for a brief second before dipping his head down to suck on her shoulder. He salted it before dragging his tongue across it and Chloe actually shivered in response. His hand had settled on her hip and she watched him up close while he downed his shot and then sucked on the lime wedge.

She narrowed her eyes. He was doing this on purpose. Trying to prove what a big shot womanizer he was. She wasn't about to let him get the best of her. Looking up at him through her lashes, she pressed two fingers to his temple, gently encouraging him to tip his head to the side. Not waiting for him to react, she leaned into him and licked his neck, the smell of tequila mingled with cologne flooding her senses. She missed his expression of shock as she sprinkled salt on his neck and licked it again before taking her shot. She forgot about the lime wedge and brought her lips back to his ear. "I wanna dance," she said decidedly, leaving him and heading for the stairs to the upper level.

Oliver watched her go, swallowing tightly. His eyes followed her to the stairwell, where she gave him a look that asked "Well? Aren't you coming?"

_Damn_, he thought. _I am in so much trouble._

He grabbed the last shot of tequila on the table and downed it, shaking his head before following after her.


	17. Chapter 17

**PLEASE READ.**

Hi, Everyone. I realized that I left an author's note on my livejournal last month, but not on FFN. So just to make a general PSA about this story:

**As always, I am participating in National Novel Writing Month in November. I am also really busy with work at the moment. Because of that, I am sandbagging updates to this story a little bit, and will be posting them approximately the 15th of each month. If I can start posting more frequently, you'll be the first ones to know! :) I know that a month at a time is a really long time to wait (for you and me both!), so I encourage you to follow the story on FFN so that you can get an e-mail update when a new chapter goes up.**

**And now, a brief comment on chapter 17. (Minor spoiler warning here, although I suspect you all know what's coming.) To warn you ahead of time, this chapter and the next are NC17, and I'll be honest, I still don't feel like either are ready for publishing. I have been over this chapter as well as chapter 18 again and again (although I'm sure I still have some typos), reworking and rewriting them, and even though I've written smut before and not felt weird about it, I think the reason that this chapter feels off to me is that it's not just PWP, I really wanted the sex scene(s) to serve a purpose in the plot overall and the character development, and I hope that that is clear in the next few chapters. It might be sexy, but it's also meant to feel, well, uncomfortable for both the characters and the reader. I don't know why I feel like I have to mention this, if I'm defending my writing or bracing you, my reader, or just trying to explain the intention because I'm worried it's not clear enough. Regardless, I wanted to say _something._**

**And with that rambling, preface, please enjoy.**

Sincerely, Blue

—17—

Oliver's hands felt so good. How did he do that? How did he know exactly what would turn her on and drive her crazy? The backs of his fingers were trailing up her arm and she was actually panting for breath.

Or maybe that was just because it was hot and she'd been dancing all night. She couldn't be sure. What she could be sure of was that she didn't like the other women in the room who had been looking at Oliver when he walked in. But she had taken a certain pleasure in the moment when he walked up to her, turned her around so her back was flush to him and started grinding to the music with her. And she'd even allowed herself the fun of reaching up behind her to slide a hand over his shoulder, prominently flashing the engagement ring at them. It was fun to be the girl in the club who had claim over the hottest guy there. It almost gave her a small rush of power knowing other women couldn't have him because he was there with her.

Her mind flashed vaguely to the guy who had danced with her downstairs. It had been fun but awkward. He was clearly scared to get too close to her because he knew she had an alleged fiancé lurking somewhere, and she wouldn't have wanted him to get to hands-y even if she hadn't. As a matter of fact, she allowed her eyes to scan the room momentarily, there wasn't a single other man there that she wished she could be dancing with instead. Lois, if she knew that Chloe wasn't really engaged to Oliver, would probably explain that it was because Chloe was friends with Oliver. She was close to him, so she felt comfortable with him. When a stranger touched her, it was creepy, cause for alarm. When Oliver touched her it was welcome because she trusted him.

"_And because you've got the hots for him," _Lois would finish. _Because I mustn't forget that Lois is completely insane._ Chloe rolled her eyes to herself and leaned into Oliver, resting her head against his shoulder.

_God I want sex,_ she thought miserably. _I do. I've been avoiding it for years but I miss it. Sex with Jimmy was good. It was nice feeling wanted and loved._ "My buzz is wearing off," she said aloud, suddenly feeling uncomfortable inside her own head.

Oliver nodded. "What do you want?"

She ran a hand through her hair, mourning the loss of his touch when he stepped away. What did she want? She wanted a boyfriend, maybe even a real fiance. She wanted the "really good, toe-curling, earth shattering sex with someone who cared about her and wanted to make her feel good" that Oliver had talked about a week ago. That statement, his whole speech about wanting to see her end up with a good guy, had been replaying over and over in her head every night since he left. "A beer. Any beer. Just make it cold," she said.

Oliver nodded and headed to the bar across the room. She looked around her at the gyrating forms, pressing slowly in on her and closing the gap that Oliver had left. Everyone in that room smelled of lust and sweat. And most of them were probably going to get laid that night. She hated it. Why did she have to be the one with a history? The screwed up one who couldn't keep it together? Why couldn't she just be the kind of person who picked up a random stranger in a bar and went home with him and got laid?

Not that that was strictly safe…but look at Oliver. He played the field. Or whatever people called it. He had sex with any number of women, some that he was in a relationship with and some that he just took home for the night and it was—

She shook her head, suddenly very displeased with the thought of Oliver with all those women.

Someone came up behind her and started dancing with her and she tensed. What was it with men? Why was this acceptable behavior? It wasn't the first time she'd been out dancing and some guy had just grabbed her by the waist and started grinding against her. Even Oliver had had the decency to approach her from the front before spinning her around, his way of asking permission for the dance. Was it that difficult? She'd always felt that men who did this were taking away her choice. By approaching her from behind and just dancing with her they weren't giving her a chance to reject them, which they obviously must have been expecting or they would have the social skills to introduce themselves first. Seriously, was it that hard to at least give her the courtesy of a little eye-contact first?

She was making up her mind how best to pull away from his tight grip on her hips when she spotted Oliver's blonde hair over the crowd. She raised her hand in the air to draw his attention. He paused when he saw her dancing with someone, but she gave him a pleading look and he was at her side almost instantly—an impressive feat given the density of the crowd.

Oliver switched one of the beers in his hand so they were both laced between the fingers of his left hand. He reached Chloe, and pressed his free hand firmly against the other man's chest, pushing him back from Chloe. "She's with me," he said loudly, giving him a look of warning.

The guy sized up Oliver and seemed to decide arguing wasn't worth it. He faded into the crowd and Oliver scanned Chloe. He offered her one of the beers and mouthed, "You okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah, fine." She took a deep, long swig from the beer, the condensation dripping down her hand. He watched a bead of sweat roll down her temple.

"Let's go downstairs," he suggested. It was less crowded there, and cooler.

She nodded.

Downstairs Oliver glanced at his watch. They'd been there for hours. "'bout ready to leave?" he asked her.

She looked at him gratefully. "Yeah." She stood from the bar stool and swayed. His hand shot out to steady her.

"Easy there," he chuckled.

"This is your fault," she whined. "Even Lois knows better than to let me have tequila."

He smirked. "But you're so much fun when you drink it," he teased, shooting a text message while he spoke. "Car's on its way. Bottom's up," he added, chugging his beer.

She followed suit, gulping it down, grateful for the cold liquid cooling her off even as it clouded her head further.

* * *

><p>Inside the plane, Chloe sunk gratefully into a seat.<p>

"So did you have fun?" Oliver asked, joining her as the plane took off.

She looked at him. His expression was all too cocky. She heaved a big sigh. "I guess. I mean, it was a little tame. I expected there to at least be strippers," she joked.

Oliver lifted an eyebrow at her. "Have another shot of tequila. You'll probably be doing a strip tease in no time."

"I bet you don't think I would."

"I would never underestimate you, Sullivan," Oliver said tiredly, leaning his head back on the seat and closing his eyes. The plane took off and a moment later he felt Chloe get up next to him, probably for a drink, hopefully of water. But then something hit him in the face. He opened his eyes in surprise as it dropped to the floor. "Chloe, what are you doing?" he asked nervously. She was standing there in just that strapless bandeau bra and jeans, pouring herself a glass of water from the mini bar, trying to stay steady on a plane that hadn't yet leveled out. They hit a minor bump. "You should probably sit down."

She laughed. "I'm hot." She glanced over her shoulder at him, eyes twinkling with mirth. "I bet you didn't think this night would end with me with my top off."

Oliver shook his head, trying to clear his foggy brain. Skin. There was too much skin. What was it about her skin that made him want to taste it so badly? "Well, my expectations were surpassed a while ago. That was quite the little move you made on my neck earlier."

She laughed again, blissfully uninhibited. "Yes, I'll have to file that one away to use on someone else someday—"

A rush of heat flashed through Oliver, and he took a slow, steadying breath. _She doesn't belong to me. It's just a crush. She doesn't belong to me. This whole thing is an act._

"—assuming I'm ever with a guy it would actually work on, anyway."

Oliver frowned at her. "What do you mean?"

She gulped some of the ice water before answering. "Oh, you know, just that it's wasted on you, obviously."

"I think I resent that."

She laughed. "Oh, Oliver, honestly!" she chided.

"Well, how come it's wasted on me?"

"Well, I mean, obviously you're not attracted to me," she said like it was so obvious, a known fact.

"Says who?"

She looked confused.

"Seriously."

"Well, Oliver…."

He was standing. "Who says I don't find you attractive?" he asked. Why was he standing? He should be sitting. _The hell am I doing?_

"Well, I mean, you don't," she said matter-of-factly.

"Chloe, I've told you before that you're completely gorgeous."

A look of relieved understanding flashed across her face. "Oh, Oliver, I'm not putting myself down. I know you think I'm good looking and that's sweet. But you can find someone attractive without actually being attracted _to_ them."

He was getting closer. "Chloe." He pulled the glass of water from her fingers and set it carefully on the counter behind her. "Who says." He stepped closer. "I'm not attracted to you."

"You—I mean we—I—" she fumbled for words. Her entire body felt like it was slowly catching fire she was so warm, hairs on the back of her neck standing on end the closer he got.

"We might not really be together, Chloe, but I am definitely very attracted to you. Do you know how hard it is living with you sometimes? Running around in that little silk robe of yours? The look on your face when you drink coffee that's practically sexual? The way your leg curls around mine when we fall asleep together? Fuck, Chloe, I can hardly stand you sometimes."

Chloe was blinking rapidly, trying to compute the information he was giving her. "Oliver. You don't have to make this shit up. I don't need a confidence boost."

"For the love of God, Chloe!" He grabbed her hips and hauled her against him. She gasped when she felt his erection pressing against her stomach. "Do you think I'm immune or something? I'm a man, for God's sake! And you've been flirting with me all night like it's this game which is completely fine because I do it to you all the time, and it doesn't have to mean anything, but if you think it doesn't affect me then you need a serious reality check!"

Chloe was staring at him, a deer frozen in the headlights as she breathed heavily, not sure what to say. Oliver looked right back at her. _Shit_, part of him was saying. _Way too far. I just went way too far. Holy shit she's going to claw my eyes out. _But he couldn't seem to let go of her to back away that one necessary step.

And then Chloe did something wholly unexpected. She grabbed the back of his neck and yanked him down to her, bringing his lips to hers in one raucous movement. And with no one around, no witnesses to prove anything to, they kissed. The plane hit a patch of light turbulence and their lips broke apart. Oliver grabbed the mini bar behind her to steady himself, his body pressing further into hers. Chloe clutched him tighter so she didn't topple over, her stomach dropping when the plane hit another light bump. "How long is this flight again?" she gasped.

"Not long enough." He turned her face back to him and kissed her again. She tasted like tequila and lime. She smelled like sweat and she felt like silk. Her skin was so soft he wanted to touch every part of it. He sucked on her bottom lip and then deepened the kiss, parting her lips and sliding his tongue inside her mouth. He raked his hands over her back, and she shuddered. She was always doing that, trembling when he touched her. How much stronger would that reaction be when he _really_ touched her?

Because it was going to happen now. Something in him knew. If it wasn't tonight then soon, he was going to touch her in every way possible for as long as she would let him.

The pilot came over the intercom and warned them that it was probably going to be rough most of the way back due to some weather, but that he was trying to find smoother air for them.

"In the meantime, you folks should probably take your seats to be safe."

_Safe_, the word echoed in Oliver's head. _There was nothing safe about this. She was quite possibly the most dangerous thing to ever happen to him and her fingers were combing through his hair like it was the most natural thing in the world. _The plane dropped a little and she fisted her hands in his hair, like gripping him would somehow keep her from falling out of the sky. Another bump had him accidentally crushing her into the bar for a moment, his groin pressing into her and hardening enough to make him catch his breath and her groan.

"How are we getting home?" Chloe asked breathily, trying to slow them down. "You're too drunk for that motorcycle."

"We're both too drunk for that motorcycle," he agreed. "There's a car waiting, I've already scheduled it." There was another patch of light turbulence and Oliver grabbed her hips with one hand and a handle on the wall of the plane to keep them both from falling. "We need to sit down,' he breathed, backing them toward the seat. They stumbled as they moved before sinking into the soft leather seat, Oliver pulling Chloe onto his lap where he began kissing her neck sensually. Chloe moaned.

"How long?" she asked again, and he knew she meant the flight. Her impatience was making something inside of him ravenous. He thought about how long it had been since he last had sex with a woman…about how much longer it had been since she'd been with a man and he found he, too, was roaring with impatience.

"Not long enough," he repeated, he slid a hand up her side and brushed his thumb over her breast, swiping it across her hardened nipple beneath the fabric of that damned bra.

She all but spasmed beneath the touch. "Seriously!" she asked.

"About fifteen more minutes to descent," he said, repeating the movement.

She let out a moan, her expression almost pained. "Fifteen minutes—"

"—is not enough time for what I'm going to do to you," he replied firmly, sliding his other hand up to attend her other breast.

She gasped, muttering the math, "Fifteen minutes plus another fifteen in the car to get home."

"Not," Oliver repeated, "long enough."

She shook her head. "Too long." He kissed her for that, free hand sliding around the back of her neck while he continued rubbing circles over her nipple with his thumb. She was squirming, frustrated and unable to steady her breathing. "What are we doing?" she managed to ask into his mouth.

He hesitated before answering. "Taking care of each other."

Her forehead was pressed against his and her eyes were closed.

"As friends. If you want to."

She was quiet for the longest second of Oliver's life before nodding. "I want to."

* * *

><p>Half an hour and one feverish car ride later, Oliver was half-carrying Chloe into his apartment. He pulled back from her momentarily and looked her squarely in the eye. "Chloe—"<p>

"I'm sure. I'm so sure." _Please_, she begged him in her mind. _I need this._

He was still hesitating. "You're drunk. _I'm _drunk." Because he was. He most definitely was still feeling the 9 shots of tequila they'd both had throughout the course of the night. Three trays of six. Ending with Chloe licking his neck. What were they setting in motion here?

"As friends," she reminded him of his own words on the plane. "That's it. Just…meeting needs. You can't tell me it hasn't been killing you. And it's going to be months now."

It didn't register that she was saying he would have to wait months to be with anyone else. It didn't matter. She was the only option. His excuses were dwindling. And his lust was overpowering. _Am I going to do this?_ he wondered. _Am I? Oh hell with it, of course I am. But I'm doing it right. For her sake. _If Chloe truly hadn't had sex in years, then he was going to make sure the first time she was really with a man again was better than a drunk fuck with a friend.

He guided her down the short hallway toward the bedroom, leading her with soft, tantalizing whispers of kisses that pulled back too quickly, willing her lips to chase his as he backed them both down the hall. He fumbled the door open and dragged her inside with him.

"Take off your shoes," he instructed as he buried his face in her neck, licking and nipping and sucking on every inch of it.

She did as she was told and toed off the shoes. Oliver's hands slid up her thighs and over her ass. He grasped it tightly and she gasped, bucking forward involuntarily. He groaned into her neck when her body rubbed against his. He wanted her so badly it was painful. But he had to control himself.

"I want you," he murmured between open-mouthed kisses to her throat, "in the bed."

She moaned. "I don't think my legs are going to make it that far," she whined. In truth her thighs were so tense right now she couldn't imagine moving. She felt like one more touch might make her shatter, and she desperately wanted to try it and see. Oliver's large hands dragged over the back of her thighs, hiking first one leg over his hip, and then the other. She obediently wrapped her legs tightly around him and allowed him to carry her over to the bed, feeling the bulge in his jeans press against her core.

He climbed onto the bed, laying her down beneath him as he did. Hovering over her he tried to steady himself before pulling his shirt over his head. She swallowed at the sight of him, a dozen fantasies she'd never admit to suddenly flashing through her mind's eye. He removed her halter top and unzipped her jeans, pulling them off next, leaving her in just her underwear. He leaned down to kiss her provocatively, grinding his cock against her so she could feel how hard he was, what she was doing to him. He did it again and again and Chloe was practically weeping from being teased, her head falling back and her eyes squeezing shut, imagining all too easily what it would feel like to have him inside of her. She arched her back toward him, her breasts raking against his chest through the fabric of her bra. She wanted him to take it off.

A wish that was soon granted. Oliver had no patience for the slip of fabric standing between him and those breasts. Pert and soft and a perfect fit to his hands. He cupped them gently and flicked his thumbs across her nipples like he'd done on the plane. Her whole body shook and a whining noise escaped her throat.

"Oliver, _please_…."

Please what? Fuck her senseless? He was seriously considering it. Maybe eventually he would. But not tonight. He dipped his head down and took one of her breasts in his mouth and sucked on it, swirling his tongue over the peaked bud. She cried out, slipping a hand into his hair and grasping it tightly. Her thighs tightened around him, drawing him closer to her, but he didn't stop. He kept right on sucking and licking at her breast, tending the other with his fingers while she whimpered beneath him. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his life. And her breasts were _perfect_. He released her nipple with a faint pop before swooping in on the one opposite it, his other hand rising to tend the one he'd just abandoned. He closed his eyes, laving her with his tongue and savoring the feeling of her fingers knotted in his hair. If this was how she reacted to the simplest of touches, how would she respond when he finally brought her to orgasm? He couldn't wait to see her completely fall apart.

She was writhing when he finally released her second breast and began trailing kisses down her stomach, pausing to dip his tongue in her navel.

She was wearing a pair of yellow boy shorts trimmed in lace and he seriously considered tearing them off of her but decided against it. So instead he left them on for a moment, running his finger gently over her folds through the soft cotton. She shook, bucking her hips from the sensation. He closed his eyes, taking another steadying breath. _Damn it. Make this easier for me, woman. _Why did they have to be drunk? If they weren't both completely inebriated it might be different. He glanced up at her and his jaw tensed. She still looked like she wanted him. She hadn't changed her mind. But he could see what she was trying so desperately to hide. She was _scared_.

He held her gaze and pressed a soothing kiss to the soft inside of her thigh. _It's okay, Chloe_, he willed her to understand. _I'll only go as far as you need._

He hooked his thumbs under her panties and slowly moved her legs beneath him to remove the superfluous material before spreading her legs again. He caressed her legs warmly, sliding his hands up her calves and gently grazing the sensitive skin beneath her knees. He moved up her thighs before raising her hips up to him and dipping his head down to lick her slit.

Chloe's breathing all but stopped. Until the last moment she had genuinely expected to have him inside of her. They were both so eager, so ready…what was the point of foreplay? Confusion was soon driven from her mind when he found her clit with his mouth. Pressure, suction, heat, friction, she couldn't handle it. She had already been so worked up it was a matter of minutes before he brought her to the brink, his moans of pleasure as he licked her the final straw.

He wanted to stop and watch this, to watch _her, _the woman who never let anyone touch her, figuratively or literally, come undone because of _him_ of all people. But he was determined. He didn't stop, sucking on her clit and massaging her hips encouragingly as she came. And he kept right on going. Chloe gasped raggedly when she felt his thumb teasing her entrance, rubbing over the slick juices there and playing with her folds but never dipping inside like she wanted.

"Oliver," she gasped out, pleading. Couldn't he just get it over with?

Little did she know that was exactly what he didn't want. If she was going to finally bring her walls down for someone, he didn't want her to be 'getting it over with.' Chloe Sullivan's sexual reawakening was going to be long, drawn out, and totally worth the wait, not a couple of drunks who couldn't control their urges.

He kept on pleasuring her with his tongue and lips and fingers until she came again, this time more exaggerated than before. Her body was giving up, depleted of energy, and totally surging with pleasure. She was actually quaking beneath him, and even though he knew he wasn't getting everything he wanted this time, he couldn't help smirking. _Just wait, Chloe. It only gets better from here._ And after all, the only thing better than your own pleasure was someone else's, so he brought her to climax a third time, throwing an arm across her stomach to help hold her steady for him as she tried to arch off the bed. She seemed to like his thumb teasing her entrance, so he abandoned her clit for a moment to explore that. He sucked one of her labia into his mouth and very gently sank his teeth into the flesh. She actually groaned, barely enough energy left in her to grip the bedspread. He moved to the other side and repeated the action. She was biting her lip to keep from crying out again. No sense in that. He dipped his tongue just slightly inside of her and was rewarded when her mouth fell open and she didn't have a voice left. All she could do was drink in the air.

He closed his eyes. She was remarkable. And she was nearly spent. "Not yet, Chloe," he whispered, and the words barely registered in her mind. She heard her name and that was all, no room for cohesive thought in her head. He was so good it hurt, physically hurt her body. He had returned to sucking on her clit and she didn't know how to tell him that she couldn't come again. It was too much. She could see a white light in the corner of her eyes.

Oliver willed her there, it was the only explanation. When she came the fourth and final time she was quaking, sobbing her pleasure. He was stricken when he looked at her and saw actual tears in the corners of her eyes. He closed his own for a moment, swallowing tightly. He was going to have to handle everything from here on out very carefully. He rose slowly up her body and ran his hands over her, trying to sooth her limp body. He brushed one of the tears away with the back of his hand and kissed away the other.

Suddenly it was almost easy to forget his own needs…almost. This had been worth it. He shifted away from her to strip off his jeans, releasing a harsh breath when his cock was given a little more freedom. He dropped his head and his jaw ticked as he tried to make himself stop wanting it. No such luck. But he still crawled back over to her and slipped them both under the covers, pulling her toward him. She went willingly in her state, but he had release a shaky chuckled when even now she still curled naturally into his side, hooking that damn leg of hers around him. She kissed his shoulder and he kissed the top of her head, running a hand down her back.

It was going to be one hell of a morning.


	18. Chapter 18

**Hey, everyone. Thanks for all your patience. NaNoWriMo is going great. As for Bride, well, I know I reviewed this a bit when it was originally written, but I don't have time for one last edit before posting, so I just want to apologize for any typos I didn't catch.**

—18—

In between trips to the kitchen for glasses of water and at one point, an aspirin, Oliver dreamt of sex, sex, and more sex. He couldn't help it that he'd gone to sleep throughly unsatisfied, or that the object of his frustration had her naked body pressed against his. It didn't make matters any better that she looked throughly sexed up because of him, or that he knew he'd had permission and had given it up for a reason he couldn't quite explain.

Chloe dreamt of nothing. Her sleep was so deep, so thorough that it was void of the disturbance of visions. When she woke that Sunday morning, she felt better than she had in years. She remembered drinking tequila and waited for the pulsing headache of a hangover to settle in, but either she hadn't had enough for that, or they had stayed up late enough to burn most of it off.

She froze. Stayed up late. Oh God, they had stayed up late all right. She felt her face color as she remembered every last detail of the previous evening. She felt embarrassed…confused…and really, really hot. _Oh God it was good. _She wasn't sure if Oliver was just better than any man she'd ever been with, or if she'd forgotten just how good something could feel. Probably a little of both. _What the hell, though?_ she thought desperately. Between their sudden mutual stupidity and his ensuing behavior, she didn't know what to think. Maybe if she just held really still, he would eventually get up and go about his day. On a Sunday. Right.

"I know you're awake, you know," he said without giving any sign of how long he himself had been awake. Which gave him even less excuse for the way he was…_Well, for God's sake, for the way he's cuddling with me right now_.

They had shifted in the night, Chloe curling up on her side the way she had done so many nights, and Oliver encasing her in his body, lying with her back pressed into his chest and his arm thrown indelicately around her, and, Chloe realized, his noticeable erection pressed against her—

_Oh my God, he never—_

"Seriously. Give me a sign of higher functioning brainpower. I know you've got a snarky comment in there somewhere."

"Is that a harmonica in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" she grumbled

He chuckled. He hadn't been hard all night; it was just that between the dreams and waking up with her right there…well, he was only human. "Which would you prefer?" he asked suggestively.

"What the hell did we do?" she groaned, dropping all pretense. Her head was aching, and she knew if she tried to stand she would get dizzy.

His chest rumbled behind her when he chuckled again and Chloe found that the sound irritated her. Sourly, she tried to pull away from him and he released her reluctantly.

She stood up—pausing a moment when her head spun as predicted—and found the nearest clothing—his shirt—quickly putting it on and buttoning it up haphazardly. "Oliver," she said breathily, trying to control her gaze as he sat up in bed a little, letting the sheet fall to his waist. "I am…so sorry. I was drunk."

"So was I."

"No, I know. I mean…" her eyes flickered below his waist, embarrassed.

Ah. That was what she meant. "Listen, don't feel bad."

"What were you trying to do?" she demanded, hugging herself and feeling incredibly vulnerable, something she hated. She wanted coffee. And aspirin.

"Relax. I—"

"Was this all because I told you how long it had been? Because I didn't want pity sex, Oliver, I—"

"WOAH!" Oliver pushed himself up a little more and held his hands up to stop her, looking at her like she was crazy. "Hold up, Chloe. Let's just slow down here."

She stared at him nervously, biting her lip, waiting for him to explain in a way that wouldn't leave her feeling humiliated.

Relieved that she was giving him a chance to continue, Oliver lowered his hands a little. "Look, there was no pity involved, I just…" he thought carefully. He wasn't sure how to phrase it. "I know what you've been through, and I really didn't want to feel like I was taking advantage of you." He figured she'd prefer that, that she could understand if he somehow made it sound like he was thinking of himself. He could see the wheels of acceptance turning behind her eyes, so he plowed ahead. He'd had plenty of time to think this part out last night when she had fallen asleep in his arms. "Now listen, I know what you're thinking, that it was a mistake and really stupid and—"

"And we were drunk? Yeah, that about covers it."

He gave her a look and she stopped to let him finish. "But I think you should consider what we said on the plane."

"And what was that?"

Oliver wanted to get up and walk over to her and seduce her back into his arms and do this the easy way. He'd never had to work so hard to get a woman into bed with him, let alone _back_ into bed with him. But he couldn't do this the easy way with her because their friendship had to come first. He needed her to be comfortable and come to the decision on her terms. And for Chloe Sullivan that meant with logic and rationality. "We said we were taking care of each other. As friends."

He knew instantly that he had said the right thing. He saw her shoulders visibly relax and her expression become more calm. "Okay," she said, not voicing the point that clearly she was the only one who got taken care of the night before.

"So there was no harm, no foul, right?" he pressed.

"I…guess so…" she looked at him suspiciously, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

But all he said was, "Great." And he started getting up, standing there in all his boxer-brief glory for her to see. She swallowed anxiously, thinking what a shame it was that he _hadn't_ taken advantage of her. "I don't know about you," he said with a cocky smirk, "but I could use a shower."

"Really? That's it?" It must be nice to be a man.

"Well, the question,_ Chloe_, is whether you're dooming me to a cold shower," he was walking toward her—no, not walking, prowling. _Okay. Maybe just a _little_ bit of persuasion to get her to come to the right decision._ "Or if you're thinking of joining me," he reached her and tugged on the shirt—_his_ shirt, which looked a little too good on her—to pull her closer. He looked down at her lips and silently asked her to meet him halfway.

Chloe hesitated, her heart pounding. Where was the harm, right? He'd already proven that he wasn't just trying to screw her for the hell of it. And after all, they both had needs, right? "Just…just as friends, right?" she breathed, eyes on his lips, which were perilously close.

"Just two friends," Oliver whispered, stepping just that little bit closer, "taking _very_ good care of each other."

"But…" she faltered. "There was…we had a rule. No sex."

"With other people," he reminded. "That was mainly about not fooling around with other people. Nothing wrong with two consenting adults getting a little pleasure from each other."

Had she ever stood a chance? She rose up on her toes to kiss him and his arm curled around her waist to steady her. She felt bad, she told herself, that Oliver hadn't had a chance to reach his own release the night before. She owed it to him. It was what a friend would do.

Even she knew she was lying about how badly she wanted it. Hell, _Oliver_ could probably tell she was lying to herself in her own head to justify this. And even with all of that, she still couldn't bring herself to care. Instead she cupped his face in her hands and let him deepen the kiss. When he knew he'd won her over he lifted her in his arms and started carrying her back to the bed.

She looked surprised to find herself there. "What about the shower?" she asked, propped up on her elbows and watching him while he started undoing her crooked buttons.

"We can shower later," he said, his hands sliding beneath the shirt to massage her breasts, which were still sore from the night before. She moaned and let her head tip back a little, slumping her shoulders as she tried not to fall back altogether. He spread her legs once again and for the second time Chloe felt him grinding his cock against her, only there was even less between them now, and she was so much more aware of how wonderful it felt. Couldn't he just give her what she needed already? "Chloe," he whispered in her ear.

"Unh?" she managed.

"You're still wet." He ground against her again and she stifled a whimper. How did he make her want this so badly? Had she been this desperate all along or was he really that good?

"And you're still hard," she pointed out, biting his ear.

He chuckled hoarsely. "You don't have to remind me." His thumb flicked across her clit and she groaned. Oliver struggled to concentrate. _One step at a time. _He gazed down at her, eyes raking over her whole body from head to toe. She looked nothing less than edible in his shirt. It was at the same time better and worse than that little silk robe of hers. He stroked her folds with his fingers, feeling how slick she was and ignoring the desperate urgency in his groin. "Chloe?" he said her name again, voice tense, now slipping one long finger inside of her.

Her breathing hitched. "What?" she managed.

He dropped his forehead to hers, steadying his own breathing as he continued to work his finger in and out of her tight channel, working her body into a frenzy. "I would love," he said slowly, through almost gritted teeth, "to shove my cock inside of you right now and fuck you senseless," He added a second finger, stretching her, and she winced, sucking in a ragged breath at his words. "But I'm not going to. It's going to hurt you no matter what I do, but I'm going to take this slow for you, I promise. I want you to enjoy this."

He was making it difficult to think, but the words slowly sank in, and Chloe realized what he was saying. It hadn't even occurred to her that he would be concerned about that, that by now she was so tight that it would probably hurt almost as badly as the night she lost her virginity. "Oliver," she said, one hand sliding around his back and the other slipping into his hair to bury itself there, "I'm a big girl."

It was what he needed to hear, but he didn't admit it. "Oh, I know," he smirked and he picked up the pace of his hand, pleased when her head dropped back at last, but her hands kept clutching him. He buried his face in her neck and bit into it, trying to slake a little of his own lust as he continued to pump his fingers into her slick pussy. He paused for a moment with them buried fully inside of her before flicking them up and down, creating vibrations that caused her grip to tighten and her back to arch.

"Oliver!" she groaned. Her voice was huskier than it had been the night before, and she was so much more engaged. By the time he got her in bed last night he had thoroughly abused her on the plane and car-ride home, gotten her worked up and frustrated and totally exhausted. He started moving his hand in a circle, stretching her opening, trying to prepare her and thinking at the same time how incredibly good it was going to feel when he finally buried himself in her for real, how much he couldn't wait for that moment.

He wondered if she'd thought about this, too. He was to the point of being ashamed of the number of times he'd thought about her naked, thought about fucking her, and even thought about making love to her. He'd expected it to get better when he went away for a week but instead he'd been plagued with thoughts of her, sleeping in his bed without him.

"Condom?" he managed to ask.

"I'm clean," she breathed.

That wasn't what he meant. "Me too?" he said questioningly.

"Sorry," she caught on. "I'm on the pill…precaution," she managed. "Oliver please," she had actually reached the point of begging. But as much as he couldn't wait, he was enjoying this slow torture. He used his other hand to start rubbing circles on her swollen clit and her hips bucked wildly.

"Tell me something," he said. She whimpered and he took that as encouragement. "Have you pictured this?"

She looked at him through hooded eyes.

"Have you thought about what it would be like to have me inside you? I've thought about it more than once," he admitted, his eyes dark with lust as his hands continued their work. She could barely focus on his question so he stopped and she made a whining noise. "Tell me," he insisted.

After a moment, she simply nodded. "Yes."

Oliver could feel a surge of triumph rush through him and his cock twitched in satisfied pleasure. So he wasn't the only one who'd been affected these past months. "When?" he asked, beginning to work on her clit again as he began pumping his fingers in and out of her harder than ever.

Chloe was rocking her hips up to meet his hands desperately. She moaned and shut her eyes tightly.

"When?" he repeated.

"The night of the surprise engagement party!" Chloe gasped out, feeling herself get closer and closer to climax. Her whole body was tensing with need.

"Was that the first time?"

"Yes! No!—I'm not—" she gasped, turning desperate as he continued rubbing circles over her clit, increasing the pressure only slightly in reward. "It's the first time I remember thinking about it!" her voice began to crescendo as her body hummed. "Oliver, Jesus! I'm begging you, PLEASE!"

He added a third finger at the last second, stretching her so much it now genuinely hurt, but at the same time, he added more pressure to her clit, sending her cascading over the edge. He continued to rub it with increasing pressure, enjoying the growing intensity of her cries of pleasure as she slowly came down to earth. He could hardly stand it anymore he was so ready to be inside her.

As it turned out, Chloe's feelings were similar. She reached down to rub his cock through his underwear and he hissed, catching her wrist. "I've held out this long, Chloe, don't expect me to last much longer."

"I don't want you to," she said flatly, her breathing still heavy. She stroked him with her other hand defiantly.

Growling, he pinned her hands above her head and hovered over her, not letting her have any other contact. "What did you imagine, Chloe?"

"What?" she asked sharply.

"The night of the party. What did you picture? Tell me."

Chloe bit her lip nervously, but her need to be touched won out. "I…I was picturing you and me, in your bed—" he rewarded her by releasing her hands "—and thinking about how muscular you are—" he pulled his shorts off and tossed them on the floor. Her breathing hitched but he didn't continue until she did.

"And?" he prompted her shamelessly.

"And…I wondered what it would feel like."

He was perched at her entrance, the tip of his cock teasing her. "Did you want it?"

"Yes," she breathed.

"Do you want it now?"

"God yes."

He pressed himself into her, barely an inch and she cried out, throwing her head back. He gritted his teeth, holding back. "What else?"

She bucked her hips up for more of him, but he held her down with his hands.

"What else? You said there were other times." he forced the words out.

"I—" she struggled to form words. "I–don't know."

"Yes you do."

"When we started sharing a bed!" she threw out desperately. "I wanted to grab the headboard and straddle you! Ugh!" she ended with a loud cry as he sank a little further into her.

"I would have let you," he ground out and she moaned.

"I'll bet," she forced a short laugh. "What about you?" she asked. "I know you've thought about it. You're mind is always in the gutter."

Oliver couldn't help it, his strained laugh mirrored hers. When had he thought about it first? He'd thought she was attractive from the moment he met her, but when had he let the first real fantasy slip? Tequila shots at Katherine and Victor's wedding? No. It had been sooner than that. "When we met," he said, finally burying himself all the way inside of her and sliding his hand around her neck to cradle her head when she cried out loudly in discomfort. "The garter," he panted, forcing himself to stay still. "You were blushing," it surprised him as he said it, realizing it was the truth. "And you were so angry with me and I didn't know why."

She was…laughing. "Hey!" he protested. He would have been annoyed if there weren't pinpricks of tears in the corners of her eyes. He felt her hips surge forward and he knew it was safe to pull out and push into her again.

"I'm sorry," she breathed. "It's just so you. Wanting what you think you can't have. Just—unh—completing my mental picture of you."

He ran his other hand over her thigh and angled her hips up to thrust again. "You think you've got me all figured out, huh?"

"Oh no," automatically her head shook a little. "I'm just starting to get you." She wrapped one leg around his waist and he groaned.

"Damn, woman."

"Not…made of glass, Oliver," she reminded him.

He dropped his head and released a short breath. "If you say so." And he started to thrust in earnest. He buried his face in her neck and breathed in the smell of her soft skin, dragging his lips along her throat. He ran his hands along her arms and found her hands, lacing their fingers together. He could tell she wasn't entirely comfortable but she was enjoying it, and that was all that mattered to him. He was so close. He'd been holding out so long he was amazed he'd made it this far. "Chloe?"

She moaned.

"This isn't going to last much longer."

"I don't care."

"You haven't come yet."

She gave a disbelieving laugh. Hadn't…? After last night? Was he serious? She wrapped her other leg around him and squeezed his hands. "I don't give a damn."

The change in angle from having both her legs wrapped around him was more than he could take. His body convulsed and he groaned her name. "Dear God, Chloe." It felt so good to be with someone, to be with her…inside her. He hadn't realized how badly he needed her. _This_, he corrected himself. _Not her specifically. I needed sex. Not her._

He kissed her neck and released her hands, running his own down her arms and along her body. "How do you feel?" he asked.

How did she feel? Her whole body was humming with content. It felt so good to be with someone. She and Jimmy had practically been children when they were together, really. Young and innocent, sex had been good but safe, almost too safe. With Davis it had been so far the opposite it was almost frightening. This…this whole night had been like nothing she'd ever experienced. "I feel a profound new sympathy for all those women in the tabloids who talk about you," she joked.

Oliver laughed at the stroking of his ego. He pinched her thighs lightly and she bucked her hips in response. He realized he still hadn't pulled out of her and did so slowly. She breathed a sigh of relief, running a hand over his back while they both tried to catch their breath. "So what do I have to do to convince you not to make this a one time thing?" he asked, propping himself on his forearms and looking down at her. She looked genuinely surprised, confirming his suspicions that she was planning to write this off as a moment of passion and dismiss it as such at the nearest available opportunity.

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean that this would make our current situation a lot more fun for the next few months. Not that I'm complaining," he added, already foreseeing a surge of guilt behind her eyes. "I'll stick around either way. But let's face it, we both work high pressure jobs and don't get much in the way of stress relief."

She looked uncertain. "What, like friends with benefits?" she asked warily.

"If you want to put it that way, sure. But the way I see it, we're already in a relationship for everyone else's sake. We should at least get something out of it for ourselves. And not to sound harsh, but I think it would be really good for you."

She arched an eyebrow at him.

He chose his words carefully. "I just mean…well, first, obviously, everybody has needs. Myself included. But for you…you've put off being with someone for so long that it sort of…built into this big scary thing. Why not transition back into your love life with someone you know it won't end badly with? We're going to end this as friends, we already talked about that. We'll find a reason to split up amicably when the time comes. And you can plow ahead into your dating life feeling confident and unintimidated." He dismissed the thought of her with another faceless man in her bed, not liking the idea entirely. But that was a long way in the future. No need to worry about it. And he would keep an eye on her to make sure anyone who got that close was good enough for her.

"You're really serious, aren't you?"

"As the grave," he teased.

"I…wanna think about it."

He searched her face and decided that that was the best he was going to get. And he was more than satisfied with not getting a straight up "no."

"So what are we both doing today?" she asked.

"It's Sunday."

She laughed as he rolled over to her side. "That's never stopped either of us before."

He shrugged. "I'm free, honestly. I'm gonna check in with my dad about how Marian is, but otherwise I was planning to take the day recovering from last night."

She grinned. 'Recover' was definitely the right word for what she needed to do right now.

"You?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Nothing. Somehow your mother and my mother and Edward all staged some sort of intervention without me even present. Edward's started insisting I don't work on Sundays and as little as possible on Saturdays. 'So I have time to plan the wedding,' according to all of them."

Oliver laughed. "I can't imagine those three in a room together."

"The effects would be devastating."

He chuckled before giving her a sidelong look. She looked good. Flushed with color, hair tousled, her body limp with satisfaction, but she was also staring at the ceiling and he could tell she was making conversation because she felt embarrassed. "You're worried things are going to get really awkward around here, aren't you?"

She closed her eyes. "Well, aren't they?"

He rolled over on his side and propped himself on an elbow, studying her. "They really don't have to."

She groaned and yanked the sheet up over her face to hide. It might have been incredible, but she still had a headache, and nothing in her life had prepared her to deal with this situation. Oliver couldn't help chuckling at the seamless transition she had made from wildly sexy to adorably innocent in the last five minutes. How did men resist her? Even he had given into a little crush. Was every man in the city walking around carrying a secret torch for Chloe Sullivan? It didn't seem unlikely.

He couldn't get her to come out from under the sheet, so with a sigh he dove underneath it to look at her. "Seriously. It's no big deal. It's just sex."

Chloe snorted. "Sex makes everything complicated. What came over us last night?"

"And this morning," he reminded, irritatingly smug.

She glared. "This morning you seduced me. This was entirely your fault."

He couldn't argue too much with that, he thought with a sly grin, so he focused on her previous concern. "Last night…well, we already said it. We're two friends who work extremely high pressure jobs. We live together and we're both attracted to each other and there's no other outlet for sexual energy. This was really bound to happen one way or another when you think about it."

She rolled her eyes. Well when he put it that way. "Because apparently I have no self-control when I drink tequila. But don't you think it's better if we just sweep this under the rug?"

At that, he couldn't help it. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her on top of him so that she straddled his waist. She let out a delightec laugh. "Chloe, I think that there is no reason why two adults can't release a little tension now and again." He ran his hands over her thighs, massaging them. "It's healthy. I'm not saying we should be lovers, just…every now and then a little fun doesn't hurt."

"Why do I get the feeling this would be a much less persuasive argument if we weren't naked?" she groaned.

He smirked. "Because everything's better naked?'

She laughed and swatted his arm, trying to slide off of him, though he wouldn't allow it. He kept her planted right where she was, thoroughly enjoying the view.

She crossed her arms under the pretext of being cold, hiding her breasts from view, and he felt frustrated at the loss. "I don't know, it just seems like a bad idea to me."

"Can you honestly say you don't want to do this again?"

She opened her mouth to say yes, but before she could force the word out she thought of Oliver slowly pressing into her, making her appreciate his length one inch at a time and swallowed tightly, her face growing hot.

His lip twitched in victory. "And can you honestly tell me you didn't have fun?'

Fun? Was that even the right word for four succeeding orgasms one after another as he refused to stop torturing her clitoris with his tongue? Again she swallowed, trying not to let herself get aroused again, just remembering what he'd done to her last night.

She hadn't answered but Oliver sighed, and pushed her off of him, climbing out of the bed. "All right, I can see that you're not going to give in on this," he placated. "But if you change your mind," he shrugged.

She watched him go in total consternation.

It took less than a week. Either she was incredibly pathetic or he was doing a much better job of manipulating her than she realized. She found herself in a state of almost constant arousal at work, barely able to focus on anything other than the memory of Oliver burying his face in her between her legs, or of him slowly sheathing himself inside of her.

He hadn't made any mention of the subject of their sleeping together since that morning, completely keeping his distance without letting on that anything had changed, to the point that she almost wondered if she had made the whole thing up in a fit of twisted lust. Maybe she was delusional. If it weren't for the way she sometimes caught him staring at her like he knew exactly what was underneath her sweater dresses and blazers, she would have nearly been convinced that she really had contrived the whole thing. All of which only succeeded in making her more crazy. She was frustrated at work and couldn't help finding Vivian and Louise excessively aggravating. She had to write an editorial for an upcoming issue and whereas before she'd been able to convince herself that she just didn't feel like it at the moment or had something more pressing to do, she now had to admit to herself that she had writer's block. She couldn't think of one blasted word worth writing about and she was about to blow a fuse if Edward asked her about it one more time.

Oliver, though not letting on one way or the other if he was as sexually frustrated as she suddenly was, was not faring much better with his job. A crisis in Dubai was demanding most of his time, and he'd actually had to fly out there for a couple of nights, as if he didn't have enough on his plate in Star City. When he finally got home late Sunday night, around 1:00 in the morning, he was exhausted and emotionally spent. He was also completely shocked to find Chloe sitting up on his couch, wearing one of his button-down shirts, watching what appeared to be a marathon of _The Twilight Zone,_ and eating coffee-flavored ice cream out of the carton. Her laptop, he noticed, was sitting on the coffee table with a blank word document pulled up, the screen glowing on her face. It faded and turned to black and she immediately reached out to hit the spacebar so that the screen lit up again, all without ever taking her eyes off the television screen.

"Chloe?" he asked tentatively, not sure what to make of this and thinking she might not have heard him come in.

"Hey," she deadpanned, and he realized she had heard, she just hadn't bothered to acknowledge.

"What are you doing?"

"Writing."

He raised an eyebrow. "That's…not what it looks like."

She spared him a glare and he backed off instinctively. "Whatever." He sat down next to her and took the spoon from her hand—she whined in protest—and took a bite of the ice cream, licking it clean before handing it back to her. Chloe followed the progress of his tongue on the spoon out of the corner of her eye. "So what are you writing?"

"Editorial."

"Ah."

"How was Dubai?"

"A nightmare."

"Want to talk about it?"

"Not really. Is this the episode with the man on the wing of the airplane?"

She nodded.

"Classic."

She nodded again, eyes still fixed on the screen. "Sure you're okay? You've been tense."

He snorted. _Pot meet kettle._

She tore her eyes away from the show to appraise him. He looked positively worn out. _There is no reason why two adults can't release a little tension now and again, _his words echoed in her mind and she shook them away, shifting uncomfortably. A mistake, as her thigh ended up brushing against his. She moved it away quickly, but he took the spoon from her again, closing the distance. It seemed weird to move away now. So she left her leg pressed against his, uncomfortably aware of the contact and no longer able to focus on the show _or_ her writing.

The episode wore on and Oliver made himself more comfortable, loosening his tie and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. He unbuttoned his collar and leaned back into the couch, his hand running an unconscious pattern over Chloe's knee. It was making her crazy but she felt like it would be weird to pull away or swat his hand. She shifted awkwardly, pressing her thighs together to relieve some of the tension. Finally, to make it stop, she reached out and stilled his hand with hers, a gentle movement, she thought. And it would have solved the problem if he hadn't taken that as an invitation to play with her fingers. Did he know what he was doing? He rubbed his thumb over her palm, then traced the lines with his finger. He spread her fingers apart, slowly running the tips of his over them in a feather light touch. She couldn't help remembering how he had laced their hands together as he'd thrust into her. Her breathing got rougher. He noticed that she had smudged coffee ice cream on the side of her hand from dipping it into the container and before either of them could stop him, he lifted it up to his mouth and licked it. He sucked on the side of her hand before dragging her pinky finger into his mouth and sucking on it, licking it clean.

"_Oliver,"_ she gasped, the attention too much for her.

"Sorry," he murmured, rubbing her pinky finger apologetically. He wasn't even remotely sorry, but she didn't need to know that. He'd been holding back all week, not wanting to pressure her, but it had been a long couple of days and he was too exhausted to care. If he couldn't have sex, he could at least have the comfort of a little human contact.

Her computer screen faded and she automatically leaned forward to pull it back up. When she leaned back she found that he had thrown his arm around the back of the couch. She gave him a sidelong glance but he was focused on the show. The episode was ending and going into the credits, but there was already another one queued up.

"How's the writing going?"

"Nobel prize winning stuff there," her voice dripped sarcasm.

"Sounds great. Can't wait to read it."

"I'm sure."

His hand rose from the sofa to start playing lightly with her hair and she found that her head started to tingle, a warm sensation spreading all the way down her body right to her toes. A tiny, almost inaudible little moan escaped her lips. She prayed he didn't notice.

He did. He had to use all of his concentration not to smile. He loved how easy it was to get a reaction out of her. He dropped his hand down and ran the back of his fingers over her neck and he could tell she had suppressed a shudder. Was she remembering where else his hands had been only recently?

"Can I ask you something?" she said, her tone the same and her eyes still on the TV, giving him no clue to what was coming.

"Sure," he replied casually, not anticipating anything major.

She sucked on the spoon for a second. "When you said you wanted me the moment you were putting that garter on my leg…what were you imagining?"

She asked it the same way she would have asked if he had checked tomorrow's weather forecast. His hand froze and he stared at her, but she gave no sign that she had just said something that caused a significant amount of blood to flow to his groin. He cleared a sudden frog in his throat.

She took another bite of ice cream, evidently waiting for his response.

Why not? "First I wanted to know what would happen if I'd been brazen enough to brush my hands over your panties beneath that skirt of yours. No one would ever have known, but I could just picture your indignation, how bright red your face would be." He watched her as he spoke, but she just continued licking ice cream off of the spoon, and he followed the languid movements of her tongue. "I liked the idea that you'd be angry, but angrier when I didn't come back for more." She gave a short laugh, and he knew she must be listening. "You'd find some excuse later that night to start shouting at me, and I'd shut you up by kissing you. I'd wrap your legs around my waist and take you right there against the wall." The spoon seemed to have gotten stuck in her mouth and he could see that her breathing had quickened, her eyes darkening a little. He plunged ahead recklessly. "Sound like something you would enjoy?" he teased darkly.

She made a noncommittal noise that sounded suspiciously like a moan. She removed the spoon from her mouth and stuck it back in the ice cream, setting both down on the coffee table beside her laptop, the screen of which she had finally allowed to go blank. "It's been a sucky week," she said, evidently changing the subject, much to his disappointment.

"It has," he agreed. She shifted against the couch and he took charge. She was being stupid. "Here," he said, leaning down to scoop up her legs and throw them over his thigh.

"Mmph," was the only protest he got.

"What's wrong at work?" he asked, massaging the calf of her bare leg to ease her mind, trying not to think about how much he'd like to work his hands higher up.

She moaned, dropping her head back to the armrest of the couch. "Writer's block," she confessed for the first time out loud. "Can't get this stupid editorial written. And the recent fashion spread my new photographer did for me was appallingly sexist so now I don't have a page 14 through 18. And everybody's pressuring me to get a wedding gown. Which is annoying."

His warm hands slowly massaged their way down to her ankle and she hummed lightly in response, the sensation a wonderful relief. She didn't care if it was a slippery slope.

"What about you?" she asked. "How's Dubai?"

"It's…still tense. But it's getting a little better. It's all one big political mess. So and so was embezzling and arrested and now there's a free-for-all to see who gets his job. And they don't like my father and I stepping in out of nowhere because they don't think we have a right to interfere."

"It's your company."

He released a short laugh. "Yeah. That's not the way they see it. We're from the other end of the world. The way they see it we're a figurehead. It's all just a huge mess." He switched legs, brushing the crook of her knee, and her breath hitched, something he didn't fail to notice.

"Hmm." She seemed to have lost her train of thought. He continued massaging her calf for a few minutes before she spoke again. "Oliver?"

"Yeah?"

"What you said before?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Which time?"

"Earlier. This week, I mean. About stress relief?"

He paused. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? "…yeah?"

"I'm thinking I could maybe get on board with that after all."

He wasn't sure how to respond. But he was having a difficult time concentrating on the best way to handle the situation. Was he hearing her right?

"Like, right now. Would be great," she added. She opened one eye to gauge his reaction. "Assuming you're still interested? We were both kind of—"

Oliver would never know how she'd planned to finish that sentence. He was too busy kissing her and carrying her off the couch to the bedroom.


	19. Chapter 19

**Merry [Early] Christmas, everyone. :) Updates, as of now, will continue to be posted on the 15th of the month while I continue my attempt to finish a full draft of my NaNoWriMo novel. I have given myself a Valentine's Day deadline for that project. Once that first manuscript is finished, however, I will re-evaluate how often I can update this story! So that's good news! Thanks, as always, for the patience and devotion so many readers have shown for this story. I know how frustrating it must be to wait so long between chapters! Also, a lot of people ask me questions for time-frame, etc. on how long this story will be. All I can safely answer without spoilers is that right now I have a vague outline that suggests to me it will be about 27 chapters total. That is subject to change.**

—19—

"You seem to be doing well," Lois commented over the top of a thermos.

Chloe flushed. "Do I?" she asked.

"Extremely."

They were in a bridal shop in Metropolis, Chloe parading around the dressing room for Lois in various gowns, waiting for some word of approval. Lois had taken a seat, a notepad and pen on her lap, a thermos of coffee in her hands. "Well, nothing's different," Chloe lied through her teeth.

"No? I guess it's just…I don't know," she studied her cousin thoughtfully. "I guess it's like the bridal glow finally set in. It's cute. Maybe it's because you've actually started planning your wedding. You're starting to get excited about it." Lois smiled at her cousin before turning her attention to the dress. "I don't like this one. I know you like empire waists, but I just don't care for it."

Chloe shrugged. She'd liked empire waist dresses as a teenager, feeling less self-conscious about her figure in them, but her tastes had changed over the years. "I'm not especially attached to them anymore. Besides, drop-waists are in fashion thanks to the recent Gatsby movie." Anything to sidetrack her cousin from discovering that Chloe had begun sleeping with her fake fiancé on a regular basis…her fake fiancé whom Lois assumed Chloe was already sleeping with because Lois didn't know about the 'fake' part of the 'fake' engagement. _Oh my God my life…_

"You're the expert," Lois agreed, looking at the store clerk managing Lois's appointment. "Do you have anything with a drop waist?"

"Of course! How did you feel about the fabric?" Emma looked from Lois to Chloe. She was a cute, wide-hipped girl in her early 20s with honey blonde hair up in a polished french twist and a dusting of freckles across her dainty, upturned nose.

Chloe and Lois shared a look. Again, Chloe shrugged. So Lois answered. "I like the silk, but it's very shiny. I don't know, it makes the blue look so…" she searched for a word, tapping her pen to her mouth.

"Costume-y," Chloe supplied.

"Yes, that's it. It's a great dress, but it's a little more circus-y and flashy than what I want."

Emma nodded. "Great, well I'll go check the stock room and be back in just a few moments. Let's get you out of this one first," she finished, looking at Chloe.

"Thanks," Chloe smiled, following her into the changing room. She reappeared moments later in her jeans and gray zip-up sweatshirt, and Emma disappeared to the stock room. "I think it's cute that you're making the bridesmaids' dresses Metropolis Sharks blue," Chloe grinned, having a seat beside her cousin.

Lois smirked. "Well, his fans are such a big part of his life. And I know it's my wedding and everything, but let's face it…it's going to be a big media ordeal. I think it suits us to embrace his public life as a part of his private one."

Chloe just smiled at her cousin. Lois and Clark really were the perfect team. How did two people so perfect for each other even find one another?

"And anyway I like blue, and the fans don't get any say in what my wedding dress looks like, so that's all there is to it."

"Uh huh. So couldn't Tess or Diana make it? And where's Lucy? I know there's no way you would have let her off the hook for this."

Lois snorted. "Yeah right, like I was letting Lucy anywhere near this. She'll wear what I tell her to. You know if she were here she'd be complaining the whole time about our horrible taste, and I'd end up giving her whatever she wanted just to shut her up."

Chloe raised her her eyebrows grimly. It was only too true.

"As for Tess and Diana, well, it's hard enough getting two of our schedules to coincide. But getting all 3 of you in Metropolis on the same weekend? Forget it. As my Maid of Honor, you get priority. And the rest of the girls will get a courtesy facetime session to make sure they don't hate it before I make the final decision."

"Sounds fair," Chloe smiled. At that moment, Emma reappeared with several bags of dresses in various colors and fabrics.

"Okay, ladies. All of these styles can be made in Sharks blue, and I brought a bunch of different fabrics for you to look at. Anything catch your eye, Miss Lane?"

Lois appraised the dresses. "That one—" she pointed "aaaand…that one…and oh I love that, let's see that first."

Emma beamed and ushered Chloe back into the fitting room.

"Your friend is so much nicer than I expected," Emma whispered to Chloe once the door was closed. "We all figured she has such a reputation as being ruthless with her job, and then she's engaged to a celebrity…we weren't sure what to expect."

Chloe chuckled. "She's hard to predict. I won't say the ruthlessness never comes out in her personal life, but…well, she's a good person," she finished lamely.

"You're much nicer than I expected, too," Emma admitted. "Everyone calls you the Ice Queen."

Chloe stiffened.

"Sorry, I hope I didn't offend you."

"No, no," Chloe waved her off. "It's a hard won nickname. But you should know not to believe everything you hear."

Emma nodded, "Of course." She finished arranging the back of the dress for Chloe, biting her lip and clearly hoping she hadn't said something too insulting. But Chloe knew how to take it in stride these days. It wasn't the girl's fault she had a reputation. She pushed the thought away as she stepped out for Lois to see.

The sample dress was peridot green, but they would order it in the proper shade of blue. The fabric was a stretch jersey, and it had an asymmetrical drop waist.

"I love the back," Chloe announced, turning so Lois could see the low back and and the draping fabric that gave the dress a wistful, romantic look.

"What do you think, Miss Lane?"

Lois was smiling. "Chloe, have you thought of doing green for your wedding? I know you haven't settled on a color scheme yet."

Chloe faltered. "Green?" She looked down. "I mean…this is pretty."

"It's a great color on you," Emma supplied, trying to decide whether she should steer the conversation back into more purchase-friendly territory.

"Definitely. And you're doing a spring wedding now, right? Maybe green and gold?"

"I…guess I'll have to think about it. What about the dress, though?"

"Well, I love the dress. Can we see the other two first, though? Just to be sure?"

Emma smiled. "Of course. And we'll hang onto this one."

"It's the dress to beat," Chloe nodded, still looking at the pretty green fabric thoughtfully. She could see getting bridesmaid's dresses in this fabric. She had been picturing gold, partly because Oliver's mother was so fond of the "golden couple" thing, but maybe….

She shook herself. She wasn't actually planning a wedding. It didn't matter what her color scheme was.

Still…. Maybe one day.

An hour later Chloe had been dressed and undressed and redressed in several bridesmaid's gowns, but none had lived up to the green one. So Lois had done the obligatory camera chat with Diana and Tess, who were waiting by their phones. Approval had been gained (as if Lois would have had it any other way) and an order had been placed for the appropriate sizes.

It seemed odd to think that Lois and Clark would be getting married in just a couple of months, Chloe thought as they dug into lunch and Lois's new favorite restaurant. Losing Dinah to married life had been hard enough, but Chloe genuinely didn't know how she was going to deal with losing Lois.

"Did you hear from Diana, yet?" Lois asked through a mouthful of potatoes au gratin.

"Yeah, she called me last night, too."

"Can you believe it? _December?_" Lois was referring to the fact that Bruce had finally proposed last night, and they had already decided to get married in December. It was currently early October.

"I know. Such a short engagement. But let's be honest, we all knew it was coming. Plus with Diana's connections, she won't have a lot of trouble putting something together." Diana's mother was a foreign diplomat who frequently served as an emissary in America. There didn't seem to be _anyone_ that Diana hadn't met growing up. Chloe remembered finding it both awe-inspiring and intimidating back in their college days, listening to Diana talk about her travels with her mother. It was almost like Diana led the life of a royal. It had only been natural for her to be crossing paths with the likes of Bruce Wayne, and their romance had been fairy tale-esque, full of elegant parties and exotic settings. "Did she ask you to be in the wedding party?" Chloe asked.

"Maid of Honor," Lois confessed.

Chloe grinned. "I knew she would. I bet you were the first call after her mother."

"And you were the second, no doubt," Lois said. "Well, here's to Diana and Bruce," she lifted her ice tea. "May they both be too drunk to remember my reception speech."

They clinked glasses, laughing.

"So let's see, that's me and Clark in March," Lois held up a finger and began ticking off names. "Diana and Bruce in December. Lana and Lex tie the knot some time in February—"

"Valentine's Day."

Lois grimaced.

"Hey! I love Lana. And…she brings out a…pleasanter side of Lex," Chloe defended.

Lois shrugged. It was hard for her to like Lex. She'd never been a fan of his business dealings. And although she had always liked Lana, one could only harbor so much love for her fiancé's ex. "Anyway, them in February."

"Jimmy and Kara in April," Chloe added as casually as possible, ignoring the sharp look Lois sent her before ticking off another finger.

"You and Oliver in May," Lois added more happily.

"Not to mention Tess and Emil last year," Chloe added. "And Katherine and Vic and Dinah and A.C. this summer."

"That's pretty much the entire gang, except for Hal and Carol, who carried that goddamn ring in his pocket for at least a year, but they _still _can't seem to set a date." Lois rolled her eyes indulgently. "I can't believe we're all going down the aisle at once like this."

"Neither can I," Chloe said, unable to keep a hint of bitterness out of her voice. Lois, fortunately, didn't notice, as she had just gotten a text from her editor.

"So what's the plan for Thanksgiving this year, by the way?" Chloe steered the subject another way.

Lois tapped something out on her phone as she spoke. "Well, of course, the Sharks have a big game that day, in the afternoon, but it's a home game, so we'll be in Metropolis for it. Then, luckily we get to go to the Kent's on Friday."

"And Lucy and Uncle Sam?"

"She and the General will be there on Thursday. What are you and Oliver doing?"

"Thanksgiving Thursday at my parents', which the Kents _might_ be going to, and then the day after we'll be at the Kents' with you guys."

"Oh, by the way, Lucy's seeing someone."

"Is she?" Chloe raised her eyebrows, taking a bite of her turkey and avocado sandwich.

"Mmhmm. Military guy, surprisingly enough. She usually steers clear of anyone who remotely reminds her of dad. But, well, this guy seems to be the exception."

"Have you met him?"

"Nope, but it sounds like she's bringing him over for Thanksgiving."

"Poor guy."

"Yup."

"Uncle Sam's gonna eat him alive."

"Yup."

"She must really like him, though."

"That's what it seems like. Personally, I think he must be an idiot if he's dating Lu, but you never know. Maybe the misguided fool thinks it will get him in the General's good graces."

Chloe chuckled. If that were the case, the poor sod was in for a serious wakeup call. Clark still didn't talk about the first time he had met Sam Lane. They suspected there had been an actual interrogation involved.

"So how is Clark doing with planning the wedding? I don't see much of him these days."

Lois shrugged. "You know him. And he knows what's good for him. He just smiles and nods and says a lot of "yes, dear"s and only gives his opinion when directly asked for it. I think he likes that we chose Sharks colors, too, though. Wait 'til he sees some of the reception stuff. What about Oliver?"

"He…um…well, he's been out of town so much. His mom's really involved, though. It's sweet."

Lois grinned. "Ah, he's probably like Clark. Doesn't want to get in the way because he thinks we've been planning this moment since we were three years old. I like it when he gets involved, though. It's cute. You'll see. Oliver'll want to stick his oar in, too."

"Oh…yeah, no I'm sure you're right." It was obvious Lois thought Chloe was concerned about this. As her mind turned to Oliver, though, Chloe found herself flushing. Since last weekend with Oliver, her life had become stranger than she ever could have imagined. It wasn't that they were having sex all the time. _Just, y'know, twice since then. Two mind-blowing, unbelievably hot, earth-shattering times._ "Lois, can I ask you something?" she blurted out before she could stop herself. She wasn't even sure what she was about to say until she said it. "What is Clark like with you? When…you know…you guys…erm…." She trailed off pathetically, just a little too embarrassed to finish the question.

Lois looked confused at first. Then it dawned on her. "Oh my God. Are you _actually_ asking me about sex? _For once?_"

Chloe could feel her face getting hot. "Look, if you're going to make me embarrassed about it—"

"No, no! Oh my God, ask away! Whatever you want!"

"I just…okay, this is really weird for me." She looked at Lois awkwardly. This was the cousin who had been a big sister to her growing up, who had basically _given_ her the sex talk and helped her navigate the world of boys growing up because Chloe was too embarrassed to talk to her own mother about it. This was the one person whom Chloe had been almost completely honest with about her past relationships, so maybe, in the midst of all the lying she'd done lately, she could actually have a real heart-to-heart about what was bothering her at the moment.

"It's okay," Lois encouraged, sensing that Chloe was genuinely troubled about something. "What did you mean by what is Clark like with me?"

"I just…okay…." She took a deep breath. "I'm really just curious. Um, okay, you know that Jimmy was my first, and then—" she swallowed, clutching her drink tightly "—Davis. But, what I never told you is that—" she broke off, hesitating.

"There hasn't been anyone since then," Lois finished for her, gently. "I wasn't sure, but I guessed as much. I've been worried about you."

"I mean, it wasn't something to be worried about, I just hadn't met anyone that I trusted to have that kind of connection with."

"Not after Davis," Lois nodded. "I can imagine." She suppressed a shudder, thinking back to the dark time in her cousin's life that Lois personally liked to try to forget about.

"So…not to say this in an insulting way, but, you're more experienced than I am."

Lois shrugged dismissively, smiling rather proudly. "That's one way of phrasing it," she wiggled her eyebrows. It wasn't like she'd been easy in the past, just that she'd had far better luck with men than Chloe, and been a little more free in her relationships.

"I'm just…wondering what Clark is like with you. Because…I mean, let's be real, Jimmy and I were both virgins when we first slept with each other and we had a really safe, really inexperienced time with each other. Not that it was bad, just—"

"Young and innocent?" Lois supplied with a teasing lilt.

Chloe smirked, "Well, yeah, actually. Anyway, we were kind of working out the mechanics of it back then, really. And with Davis…I mean, he was…it was…" she took a deep breath "To put it simply, Davis was a selfish lover."

It was a sign of Lois's deep understanding and love for her cousin that her only visible reaction to this statement was a slight ticking in her jaw.

"So it's just…I was just curious about what it's like with you and Clark. Not like I'm looking for the intimate details…just…I don't know." She threw up her hands. "I'm not even really sure what I'm asking."

Lois's lips had drawn into a thin line: a sure sign that she was still thinking about Davis and everything that he had done to her baby cousin. She kept tabs on Davis, not that she told Chloe about it, and he seemed to have turned out all right. He had gone to therapy for years and had steered clear of women for a long time. The last she had checked, he was dating again, so she had done some digging and pulled up the results of his therapy. He had received glowing remarks of excellent progress, so she was content to believe that maybe he'd gotten his life together. She was going to continue keeping an eye on him, though. Just in case. None of it meant that Lois was ready to forgive him. Chloe? Well, Lois had decided only to share her information if Chloe asked. And she had only asked once, over a year ago.

"Lois?"

"Sorry, cuz. What did you ask?"

Chloe rolled her eyes, way too embarrassed to be having this conversation. "I just wanted to know what Clark is like with you when you're…intimate."

Lois smiled a little, a distant look in her eyes. "I mean, it varies. It all depends on the context, but Clark is just so caring. It's remarkable because he's this incredibly strong, powerful guy—Sorry, but it's true," she added, catching Chloe's embarrassed grimace. "But when he's with me he's just so gentle, y'know? For a while I think he was scared he was gonna break me or something." She shook her head at the ridiculous idea.

"And that's…really different from what it was like with other men?"

Lois nodded. "Not that there aren't other great guys and other great lovers out there. But it just felt different with Clark." She gave Chloe a shrewd look. "But if what you're asking is whether the average guy is a Jimmy or a Davis or an Oliver…well, wait. What is Oliver like with you?"

Chloe flushed beat red. "Oh! I mean…I dunno. He's…um…it's…we…."

"I'm gonna need an adjective in there somewhere. Maybe a few verbs and adverbs would be helpful."

Chloe laughed. "I never got used to talking about this stuff, Lois! You know that!"

Lois nodded. She knew it too well. It had been one of the most long-lasting damages that Davis had done to Chloe. She'd been scared to open up about her personal life. Scared to talk about anything too intimate. Frankly, she'd been scared to _have_ anything that resembled intimacy, never mind talk about it. "I know. Listen, you don't have to. Just…let me know if you ever want to ask about anything else, okay? I mean, what are cousins for right? You've gotta be able to dish with somebody." She grinned.

Chloe grinned back. It was true. Maybe one day, when all this was over, she'd come clean to Lois about what had really happened between her and Oliver. It was a relief to talk about even this. "Just…one thing: is it normal for a guy to be more concerned about your pleasure than his?"

Lois smirked. "Unheard of? No. But normal?" She shook her head. "That's how you know you found a good one. I mean, in my opinion, that's rule #1 of how to _be_ a good lover. Take pleasure in the other person's pleasure. That's what makes sex good."

Chloe sipped on her drink thoughtfully. It was a good point. She certainly enjoyed knowing that she could get Oliver just as worked up as he made her. And he was obviously _invested_ in making her feel good when they were together. How…unexpected. Oliver was turning out to be one of the most unusual men she'd ever known.

"_So when do you get back?"_

"Tomorrow morning."

"_So soon?'_

"Gotta get back to work."

"_How's Lois?"_

Chloe sighed, swiping her hotel key card and adjusting the earbud connected to her phone. "Glowing with pre-wedding bliss and playing dress up every day. Oh, and she's on a front-page streak at work. Her editor's practically in love with her. Or…" Chloe frowned. "He's stopped telling her she's fired. Which, from what I remember of Perry White, is the equivalent of love."

Leaning back in his desk chair in his apartment office, Oliver chuckled. _"Glad to hear she's happy."_

"Yeah, well, her and everyone else we know." Chloe sighed. "Do you ever think about what it will be like when we're done with this, Oliver? Do you think you'll get married?"

He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. _"I mean, I'd like to, I've said that before. I'm not gonna say I'll propose to the next girl I meet, but—"_

"When you find the right person," Chloe finished. "Don't you think it's weird that of everyone we know, we're the only ones who haven't found someone? Everyone, and I mean _everyone_ we know is with someone."

"_Don't exaggerate—"_

"Everyone, Oliver."

"_What about—"_

"Everyone. Even Mia was telling Edward about this Ian Archer kid she met at a martial arts class she's taking. Even Lois's sister, _Lucy_, is seeing someone. That literally brings the number of single people I know down to zero."

"_Okay, but—"_

"Tell me that doesn't make you the slightest bit uncomfortable? Aren't you ever scared that there _isn't_ a person for us?"

There was a long pause. _"What's bringing this on?"_

Chloe shrugged, sitting down on the edge of her bed in her hotel room. Her talk with Lois had unnerved her. "I don't know. I'm just…I don't know. Helping Lois with the wedding and planning my own fake wedding is stressing me out. I think it's just bringing all this anxiety to the surface that I've been burying for a while." She flopped back on her bed and released a long breath of air, trying to release all the tension she seemed to be holding in her gut.

"_Okay, Sullivan, just…relax, okay? Take a deep breath. Where are you?"_

"My hotel room," she said tightly.

"_Do you have any wine?"_

"There's a mini bar," she rolled her head to the side, looking at the small kitchenette to the side of her room. The hotel had upgraded her to a suite thanks to her executive platinum status in their rewards program.

"Okay, well I heard the door open, so I'm assuming you just got there a minute ago. So here's what I want you to do: Take off your shoes."

She sighed, rolling her eyes.

"_Just do it."_

Smirking at his obvious annoyance, she toed off her shoes, and they dropped to the floor with a soft thud. "They're off," she sighed.

"_Stockings next."_

"I don't feel like moving right now, Oliver," she grumbled.

"_I would ask if you really feel the need to argue with everything, but after living with you for the last couple of months, I already know the answer."_

She stuck her tongue out at him.

"_I'm waiting, Sullivan."_

She heaved a long-suffering sigh and sat up to start rolling off her stockings.

"_You wearing those lacy thigh highs by the way?"_

"Yeah, why?"

"_No reason."_

She could hear him grinning on the other end of the line, and she paused. _"Why?"_ she asked suspiciously.

"_Because I have at least six fantasies with you that feature those stockings."_

She was glad he wasn't there to see her blush beet red. "They're off," she said at length, peeling off the second one the rest of the way, and trying not to imagine what Oliver's fantasies might entail. That way lay a lot of frustration.

"_Good. Next time I see you I hope you're wearing them again, though."_

"Oliver," she chastised, rolling her eyes, still flushed and wishing he would cut it out. What was the point of getting her all worked up when they were on the phone?

"_All right now go get yourself a glass of wine. I know you tend to prefer red, but personally I feel like you're having a Chardonnay kind of day."_

"Hmm," was Chloe's skeptical response when she opened the fridge and investigated the selection. There _were_ a couple of mini bottles of Chardonnay in there. He was right that she normally preferred the stronger flavors of red wine, but maybe she'd give him the benefit of the doubt. She'd recently learned at a champagne tasting that Laura Queen was a wine enthusiast, and she suspected that Laura had helped to cultivate her son's tastes. So why not? She grabbed two bottles and one of the wine glasses off the top of the counter and carried them over to the bed. "All right I'm pouring myself a glass," she informed him, screwing off the cap.

"_Good, now I want you to sit on that big, comfortable, disproportionately-pillowed bed and sip on your glass of wine and try to decide if it tastes like oak or vanilla or peaches or violets for a good hour."_

"Trying to teach me about wine now, Oliver?"

"_Just trying to get you to relax." _Chloe's only reply was a terse 'hmph,' and he chuckled to himself at how stubborn she was. _"Now Chloe, I want you to listen to me very carefully because I'm being completely serious when I say that you are far from being past your prime. Just because our friends are all doing the mating ritual does not mean that you and I aren't going to get married. I mean to other people." _He frowned. _"There's someone out there for us." _He included himself rather than incur her protests. The point, after all, was to get her to calm down, not argue with him.

"Very comforting, Queen. Thanks for that." But she couldn't help smiling at his efforts.

"_I'm serious. Now, go pull back the covers on that big, over-stuffed hotel bed."_

"What exactly are you doing that you have time for this?" Chloe smirked, climbing under the covers as instructed.

"_Relaxing with a glass of scotch,"_ he said easily. _"It's been a long day here, too."_

"Anything serious?"

"_Nah. Just work. And parents. Nothing to worry about. Had someone ask about you, though."_

"Oh?"Chloe asked, genuinely surprised.

"_Yeah, some friend of my dad's who met you at the engagement party. Wanted to know where I was keeping my fiancé locked away."_

Chloe giggled. "Right. Very cute."

"_So how are you feeling? More relaxed?"_

"Mmm…yes…this is definitely an improvement," Chloe sighed.

"_Good. Now, listen. I know it's stressful watching all of our friends walk down the aisle without us. I'm going through it, too. But have you really done anything in your life on the same schedule as anyone else, Chloe?"_

She couldn't help smiling a little, leaning her head back to rest against the headboard. "No, I guess not."

"_Exactly. Take it from me, Sullivan, you are not the average woman. And I would know," _he added suggestively.

"Do you ever think about anything else?"

"_Are you wearing matching lingerie right now?"_

She laughed aloud, "Yes?"

"_No. I never think about anything else."_

She snorted into her wine glass before taking another sip.

"_So what color?"_

"What?"

"_What color is this matching lingerie?"_

"Seriously?" she rolled her eyes, feeling herself flush with warmth.

"_Hey, you're there and I'm here. I gotta take what I can get."_

She grinned, fully planning to shut him down, but she couldn't quite resist. "Pink and yellow," she said, unable to bite back her smile.

"_You're fantastic."_

"You're a perv."

"_Just wait until you get back, Sullivan. I've got plans for that underwear."_

She snickered. It should have been weird, laughing at Oliver's teasing instead of fuming over it. But now that they had had sex…maybe she was just finally appreciating his sense of humor. It wasn't as though it was all meant to be crass. As a matter of fact it was kind of a turn-on sometime. It was oddly comforting to be around someone who was so incredibly open and unreserved about his sex-life. It was beginning to make her think that she really could stand to take a leaf out of Oliver's book.

_Did I really just admit that?_ she wondered. _Dear God, he really is getting to me, isn't he?_


	20. Chapter 20

**I don't think I've ever written a story with so many lengthy author's notes. Lord! Just wanted to apologize for the late post-date and for the fact that this chapter ends a smidge abruptly. 20 got super lengthy on me and I haven't actually finished it yet, so I decided to cut it in half so I would have _something_ to post for you guys. Thanks for your patience. As usual, you can follow my twitter to keep up with posts and news on the story.**

**Also, a minor announcement. For various personal reasons, I have decided that when this story is finished, I will no longer be posting on FFN. I have some issues with the way the site is being managed, and have decided to continue on other venues instead. Please, please feel free to shoot me a private message if you are interested in knowing more about my reasons for leaving or about where I'm going instead!  
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**Thank you all! Without further ado: 20 Part I  
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><p><strong>ETA: Guys, PLEASE. If you are going to ask about where else you can find my writing, PLEASE make sure you at least log-in to write your review, so I don't have to track down your account to message you.<strong>

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><p>—20—<p>

Days later and back in Star City, Chloe's heels clicked along the sidewalk outside the QI building. She and Oliver had planned to have dinner together when she got back, but she had had a voicemail waiting for her when she landed at the airport earlier that day, explaining that he had gotten bogged down with paperwork and wouldn't be back until late.

So she'd picked up a little takeout on her own and eaten it by herself, one eye constantly glancing at the clock as it got later and later. She'd felt bad for Oliver, having more than once been trapped at the office until all hours of the night, trying to get everything in perfect order for an upcoming issue of the magazine. So she'd decided to bring him a bit of dinner at the office, a little surprise to help the time pass. If he was anything like her, he'd need a break, but would never think to take one until someone else suggested it.

The doorman to the building had long since gone home, but Chloe had had the foresight to grab Oliver's spare ID badge from his desk drawer at home, so she let herself into the building and headed for the elevator.

She'd missed Oliver during her time in Metropolis. As great as it always was to see Lois, there was only so much wedding talk Chloe could take before her head felt like exploding.

At the top floor she got off and headed for Oliver's office, opening the door quietly and smiling when he didn't even look up, head bent over what looked like a very long report in very small print. "Hey, stranger," she said, and he actually jumped a little. Any concern she'd had about whether the interruption would be a welcome one or not vanished at the sight of the broad grin that spread across his face.

"Chloe," he said, coming around his desk to give her a hug. "Hey, you made it back okay. Good." He squeezed her tight and she felt her heart flip a little as she tiredly nuzzled into his chest. Oliver gave great hugs, something she had only very recently come to appreciate.

"Yep. I brought you a little leftover Thai food," she added, holding up a paper sack and handing it to him. "What are you working on?"

"Ugh, just this report about how the tablet's doing. There are still some bugs that need to be worked out, but overall it's been a success." He rubbed his face, heading back to the desk and setting down the takeout bag as he took his seat again. "I swear, I don't know how my dad ever found time to do all this crap and still be around at home."

"How goes the shifting of the mantle, speaking of?" Chloe asked, following him around to his side of the desk and leaning against it casually beside him.

"Just when I think I can't possibly handle any more responsibility, they give me more," he grimaced. "But it's going fine, really. I knew this was all coming eventually. I just never expected to have it happen all at once." Oliver eyed the hem of her charcoal gray shirt-dress, which rode up a little when she leaned back, resting just at the edge of his desk. "How was the rest of your visit?"

"Good. We found a bridesmaid dress and Lois had the first fitting for _her_ dress. And I got to see Clark a couple of times, too, which was nice. Lois and I went to the game last night. That was fun."

"How'd the Sharks do, by the way? I didn't get to watch it."

"They won."

"Good." Oliver's eyes traveled down the length of Chloe's legs to a pair of black T-strap heels. He was having a difficult time not imagining those legs wrapped around his waist and those heels digging into his back. He had to be careful with Chloe. Knowing when to initiate something with her and when not to was a difficult game. On the phone the other night, he'd been dying to take things further, but he had realized that the idea hadn't even occurred to her. Considering he was trying to take baby steps with her, he wasn't exactly sure how sex in his office would go over. The thought, however, had his groin tightening lustfully. He dragged his eyes back up to her face, and found she hadn't noticed his lingering stare. Instead she was skimming a page of the report on his desk. "So were you able to relax much after we talked?" he asked.

A wistful little smile toyed with her lips and she chuckled. "A little. I mean…as much as I ever can relax. Maybe when all these weddings are over, I'll finally unscrew myself from the ceiling a little bit." Her eyes flickered to his to exchange a knowing look. He smiled a little bit, too. It wasn't in Chloe's nature to be relaxed. Not in her day to day life, anyway. But he knew one thing that always got her to unwind for sure. He tugged at his collar, feeling a little warm.

"So what are your plans for this week?" he asked, taking her hand and massaging it. _Baby steps._

She closed her eyes and moaned a little, sending another wave of lust over him. "Mmm, the usual. Work. Meeting your mother to discuss venues. Tying up a few loose ends so I don't have to take any work with me when we head to Smallville for Thanksgiving."

He smirked, rubbing his hands warmly along her wrist and arms. "Liar."

"Hey," she protested faintly, leaning back a little more unconsciously, "I'm _trying_ at least."

"Fair enough," he brought her hand up to his mouth and sucked on a finger. Her eyes popped open as her lips parted to suck in a short breath, and he half expected her to protest, but she only watched in fascination as he swiveled his tongue around her finger seductively. He released her hand and reached across her waist to grab her hip, pulling her over in front of him. Again no protest as he ran his hands over her thighs, fingertips dancing just at the edge of danger beneath her hemline. He saw her eyes darken and took it as encouragement to shove the dress up and part her legs. He could feel the energy coursing through her now, causing her muscles to tighten and tremor slightly as his thumbs stroked the insides of her thighs. He wasn't foolish enough to think it would occur to her to come here for this…but at least now he knew that she wasn't opposed to the idea.

If there was one thing he knew about Chloe Sullivan by now, it was that if she didn't want something, she would damn well say so.

Curiously, he brushed his thumb over her panties and watched her shudder in response, closing her eyes as she leaned more heavily on her palms, dropping her head back a little. He smirked. "I told you, Sullivan," he stroked her again, "I am a serious fan of these thigh-high stockings of yours." He ran both hands along the lace trim of her stockings and felt himself harden when she groaned in response. He rubbed his hand over her pussy again and her hips bucked slightly.

"_Oliver," _she sighed, somewhere between lust and chastisement for the way he was toying with her. He could actually hear the note of amusement somewhere in her voice and he couldn't help grinning. She would be anything but amused in a little while.

He continued to drag his fingers lightly across her slit through her panties, considering the various ways to make love to a woman like this. "All work and no play this week, hmm?" he asked her, rubbing circles on her clit with the pad of his thumb, watching her face grow flushed as he did so.

Chloe didn't answer, just sucked in a short little panting breath, her eyes shut in pleasure as she simultaneously tried to maintain her composure.

"We should do something about that. Maybe go out. I've got a friend who's been begging me to come to her club for weeks. They need the business," he said casually, pushing her panties to the side and gently toying with her entrance. "We should go. Blow off some steam."

His words were punctuated by Chloe's attempts to repress moans of pleasure and frustration. He knew she wanted him to go further, but while Chloe would absolutely speak up if she didn't want something, by the same token, it was like pulling teeth to get her to say what she really did want.

"What do you think?" he pressed, slipping a finger inside of her tight, wet channel.

Chloe's head might have rolled off her body the way her shoulders slumped and it dropped back. A breathy groan came out before she could reply with a tight, "Sounds good."

"I think so, too," Oliver smirked, easing another finger inside of her and beginning to thrust them in and out of her, picking a slow and torturous pace as he tried to stifle his own need to be inside of her as soon as possible.

Chloe wasn't holding up well. "Oh…_God_…Oliver…." Her voice was tight and had a whining note. Oliver smirked, picking up the pace just a little. Enough to keep her on edge.

He had to appreciate Chloe in this moment, head thrown back in pleasure, legs spread before him as his fingers fucked her. She was a remarkable woman, unlike anyone he'd ever met. When he'd first met her…he never would have imagined that they would end up here. It was absolutely surreal.

He needed more.

Pushing his chair back, he pulled his hand out of her—much to her displeasure—and shoved her legs together, dragging her panties ungracefully down her legs before parting them again, yanking her right up to the edge of the desk but leaving just enough space between them that she couldn't release the tension she so desperately needed to.

With one hand still gripping her thigh he cupped the side of her face, meeting her eyes gravely. He wanted her. He couldn't remember a want ever feeling quite like this, quite like her. He leaned down and kissed her mercilessly, making it almost difficult for her to return the energy, though she certainly did her best. As her body arched towards him he leaned her back on his desk, bracing himself over her. God, she was phenomenal.

She practically whimpered when he pulled back from the kiss, lingering on her bottom lip for a moment before releasing it, then planting another savoring kiss on her mouth before backing away.

He began to unbutton the top buttons of her shirt-dress, impatiently pushing the fabric aside and shoving down the cup of her bra so he could close his mouth around her breast. He was rewarded with another beautiful moan and the tension of her hands tangling in his hair.

_Sensational._

His tongue laved at her breast luxuriously, while his cock was practically screaming for him to get on with it. He brushed his thumb over her other nipple before quickly moving on to suck on it, actually _feeling _her pleasure increase the longer he spent laving it.

And then he couldn't take it anymore. Hands fumbling he wrenched open his pants to free himself to take her. With their bodies pressed together, he kissed her and guided himself inside of her at the same time, swallowing every sound that escaped her lips. He knew she was in slight discomfort, but she recovered far more quickly than she had in the past. He set a hard, steady pace, forehead pressed against hers, eyes met.

…and he could see panic growing inside of hers.

_Damn it._

It was too intimate. Too much for her. But it felt so damn good, just like this and if he could he would keep her in this moment forever.

But he couldn't. So he shifted, pushing himself up so that he could grab her thighs and pull her closer, yet creating a distance between them. The angle was deeper and he could barely keep his eyes open as he plunged inside of her repeatedly, Chloe's own voice gone as she gasped for breath, tossing her head to the side and clamping her eyes shut.

When a high pitched cry sounded from her lips, he knew she was close, and he worked his fingers over her clit as he continued to thrust into her, in a race to try to bring her to orgasm before he lost all control.

Her body shuddered and he felt her go limp beneath him, and with a few more thrusts he followed her, gasping and crying out himself with relief and pleasure and just _thank God for this._

Chloe, for once, was the first to speak. A light, breathless chuckle, and "I should go away more often. Isn't that what they say?" she joked, evidently determined to keep the mood light but barely hiding a moan when he pulled out of her.

Oliver didn't blame her. He was getting foolish. He forced a grin. "What can I say? It's hard not to get addicted to sex, don't you think?" He winked at her, massaging her thighs in a nurturing way.

She rolled her eyes playfully, pushing herself up and resting back on her palms. Tousled hair and dress hanging open…she looked good enough to eat, and Oliver couldn't suppress the smirk of satisfaction that played across his lips. "How much work do you have left?" she asked curiously, noticing that she had skewed several papers across his desk.

It was his turn to roll his eyes, pushing the papers away from her hands. "No discussing business in bed."

"We're not in bed. We're on your desk," Chloe said with a wry smile. "Seems like the perfect place to discuss it."

"Well when you put it that way," Oliver smirked, leaning in to kiss her neck seductively, "it sounds so dirty."

Chloe's laugh was tight with lingering lust. "Probably because it is, God—Oliver—stop—" she pushed him back, but gently. He read quickly in her face that while she wasn't upset, she had already pushed her own boundaries enough for the moment by having sex in such an unusual place. He could respect that, but he wasn't in the mood to let her down from the desk just yet, so he continued rubbing his hands soothingly along her legs, which were conveniently still parted for him. "Be serious. How much work do you have left?"

Oliver sighed, and glanced at the scattered papers. "Oh, it's not too terrible. I'm trying to get on top of things so I can enjoy my holiday, too," he said, returning to their earlier mention of Thanksgiving.

"Liar," she teased, smirking.

He chuckled. "Hey, I won't bring any work with me if you promise not to bring any work with you," he challenged.

Chloe raised her eyebrow at him, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I bet you can't do it."

"I bet _you_ can't."

"Oh really? What happens if I don't and you do?"

Oliver mulled it over. What did he want? What would it be absolutely worth it to have Chloe do? Something devious and delicious occurred to him and he gave her a wicked grin that, had she not already been terribly aroused, would have had her panting after him. "When I win, I get chocolate syrup."

Chloe stared at him, not understanding.

He smirked. "And you have to lick it off me."

Even if she didn't agree to it, it was completely worth the proposition just to see Chloe's entire body turn crimson. Her mouth fell open slightly. "Are you serious?" she half-gasped.

He lifted a cocky eyebrow. "Scared you'll lose, Sullivan?"

She promptly closed her mouth, glaring at him in spite of her shock. "Fine," she said. "But if—_when_—I win…" she paused, lips curling devilishly, "then _I_ get whipped cream."

For a moment, all Oliver could think about was licking a soft mound of sweet whipped cream off of Chloe's most intimate places and he could feel himself getting aroused again. He literally could not lose this bet. "Deal," he said immediately.

Chloe extended her hand, expecting him to shake it, but apparently Oliver had a better way to seal the deal in mind, grabbing her wrist and yanking her forward so he could kiss her, his tongue sliding into her mouth and giving her an idea of exactly how sinful it would be to have him eating whipped cream off of her body. She groaned.

"Oliver," she mumbled into his mouth. "Don't…don't you need to…unh…finish this?" she asked, forcing him to work on her neck again because her lips were moving too much.

"I need to finish something else first," he said and she glanced down to his growing erection.

She moaned longingly. "Ohhh…_fuck."_

Oliver smirked. "Yes, exactly," he grinned, spinning her around and bending her over the desk.

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><p>Stepping out of the car, Chloe had to pause and appreciate that the last time she'd done this road trip with Oliver, she had come out of it feeling decidedly disgruntled. Today, she had barely noticed the passing of time, laughing with Oliver about family and friends and work. And unlike last time, when he had groaned about the number of times she had him go through a drive through so she could get more coffee, this time he had been the one to make a scheduled stop at the exact same places without her asking.<p>

_Who says you can't train them?_ she laughed to herself, rubbing her hands together and watching her breath fog as he lifted one of her suitcases out of the trunk. She emptied the last dregs of her coffee—fortifying herself—before leaning into the car to fish out her purse.

"Oh, they're here!" her mother's voice came ringing out and Chloe winced. She could do this. It would be fine. After all, this year her family holiday would be much less stressful because she had a _fiancé. _She was finally a success in her parents' eyes. She straightened up.

"Hi, Mom," Chloe greeted, opening her arms and allowing her mother to wrap her in a warm hug. Chloe took the embrace for all it was worth. Even though she tended to avoid coming home, she still missed her parents most of the time. And with everything she had been going through lately, even Chloe had to admit that right now she really just needed her mom. She sighed, tucking her mother's shoulder under her chin for a second. "Where's Dad?" she asked, finally pulling back.

"Oh, he's coming. He was just putting the sheets on your bed while I finished getting the house ready. Now where's my future son-in-law?" Moira demanded, looking past her daughter. "Oh, there you are!" she said, absolutely delighted when Oliver appeared from behind the car, second suitcase in tow.

"Hi, Mrs. Sullivan," Oliver said pleasantly, and she immediately came to cup his face.

"Oh, call me Mom, honey. Chloe," she said over her shoulder, "he's even more handsome than I remembered. I don't know where you found him."

"_Neither do I," _Chloe muttered under her breath. _And I never could get rid of him_, she laughed to herself as her mother hugged a somewhat uncomfortable-looking Oliver.

"Well come in, you two, come in," Moira bustled around them. "Gabe will come help you with the luggage, Oliver, sweetheart. Never mind that now. You both must be starving. I was so surprised you decided to drive all that way. I thought Chloe said you were considering flying a couple of weeks ago," she monologued as she ushered them inside, Oliver just barely grabbing a couple of suitcases to bring inside the beautiful little yellow suburban house. He couldn't believe there was an actual white picket fence. _This was it? This was where Chloe Sullivan grew up and became the Ice Queen? _This deserved some investigation.

"We talked about taking Oliver's jet," Chloe was explaining tiredly to her mother, "but we decided we didn't want his pilot having to work the week of the holiday. And neither of us felt like flying commercial and having people in our face getting on and off the plane." Chloe sighed, glancing at Oliver.

"Oh that's so sweet. My goodness, a private jet, that's just…wow…well, anyway I laid out some sandwiches in the kitchen and made iced-tea, so there's a big pitcher of it in the fridge. But there's also some hot apple cider if either of you is chilled. It will only take a minute to heat up. I didn't know if you two had had a chance to stop for supper on the way, so I was worried you might be a little hungry…" Moira continued rambling her way straight to the fridge.

Chloe and Oliver's mouths fell open slightly. It was evident that Moira had been preparing for their arrival for sometime. 'Some sandwiches' actually meant an entire platter of sandwiches that could feed ten people. Or Bart and Clark. There was a loaf of fresh-made pumpkin bread that had Martha Kent's name on it, and a bowl of fruit salad and a veggie platter with ranch dressing in the center.

"Mom, are we…expecting more people?" Chloe managed to ask, staring at all the food.

"Hmm?" Moira asked, reappearing from the fridge with the pitcher of iced-tea in her hands. "No, why?"

"Oh. I…no I just…this is a lot of food," she said meekly, while Oliver politely picked up a paper plate and started taking some carrot sticks from the veggie platter.

Moira surveyed the spread and turned a little pink. "Oh…I guess…you're right." She shrugged. "I guess I just got a little carried away, you know? It's been such a long time since I had you at home, and I got excited." She shot a furtive glance in Oliver's oblivious direction, and Chloe realized that Moira had been anxiously busying herself trying to make Oliver feel as welcome as possible.

"Well it looks delicious," Chloe said kindly, patting her mother on the arm and grabbing one of the larger sandwiches for her plate. It was a good thing she and Oliver had skipped stopping for a bite to eat in favor of arriving half an hour earlier. "Don't you think so, Ollie?" she prompted Oliver.

Oliver glanced up, unused to Chloe calling him by his nickname. Chloe was raising her eyebrows meaningfully at him, and he caught on, helping himself to a large sandwich as well. "It looks amazing Mrs—erm, _Mom._ Thanks for putting all this together. I was starving."

Moira looked so delighted and buttered up that she could barely speak, so she left the room to find her husband.

Oliver gave Chloe a teasing look and Chloe blushed. "She's excited. I never bring people home."

"It's cute. I like your house."

"It's not _my_ house. It's _their _house."

"But you grew up here, right? Are we sleeping in your room?" He wiggled his eyebrows and she laughed.

"Don't get excited. My parents are pretty wholesome. They're probably expecting you to sleep on the couch, Ollie."

"I still wanna see your room. Is it the same as it was when you were in high school? Are there little trophies and tiaras lying around?"

Chloe turned tomato-red as the image of a glittering prom-queen tiara that had been shoved into the back of her closet flashed to the front of her mind. "Of course not," she said, quickly stuffing a bite of ham and swiss on marble rye into her mouth and walking away.

"Is that my baby girl?" her father's voice called from the stairs, thundering down the steps to Chloe's embarrassment. He wrapped her in a tight bear-hug, squeezing the oxygen out of her lungs and leaving her carefully done hair considerably ruffled.

"Hi, Dad," Chloe squeaked out, much to Oliver's amusement.

"And here's the man of the hour!" Gabe said, releasing his daughter to gasp for air and instead, to Chloe's absolute horror, embracing Oliver in an identical bear-hug. Although in this case the idea of Gabe Sullivan trying to squeeze the air out of Oliver's lungs was considerably laughable, as he was about a foot taller than her father, and considerably more fit.

Oliver hugged him back awkwardly and Chloe waited for the ground to swallow her. Could this get any more embarrassing?

"So, I have some news," Moira announced as she came into the kitchen and Gabe finally turned his attention to the food.

"I'm I allowed to eat now that the kids are here?" he asked, interrupting his wife, who rolled her eyes.

"Yes, dear, of course," she said.

"Well, _excuse me_," he replied, eagerly grabbing a sandwich for himself and putting it on the plate already in his hand. "But I got smacked with a dishtowel earlier for taking a tomato, so I'm just making sure."

Chloe was going to die. Why did her parents have to be so…_parental?_

"Anyway," Moira continued, "I was _going_ to say that we're mixing things up a bit this year."

Chloe's eyebrows went up.

"Now, I know you're used to having Thanksgiving at our place with the Lanes," Chloe's mother looked at her, "but we felt that with you and Lois both getting engaged, and with Lucy bringing home a boy this year, that we should really try to get everybody together, so we're going to have dinner all together on Friday at the Kents' home. So we're just going to have a small dinner."

"Oh," Chloe said, surprised by this development. "Um…is there…is there room for all of us?" Chloe asked tentatively, thinking of the Kent's modestly-sized dining room.

"Jonathan and I were talking about setting up a big table in the barn. I'm sure Clark and this strapping young man will be able to give us a hand with that," he said, clapping Oliver on the back jovially.

"No problem, Oliver said, reaching for another half of a sandwich while Chloe recounted the many, many reasons why she had left home. Her father using phrases like 'strapping young man' was definitely in the top ten.

"Well you two eat up," Moira said, "and Gabe you'll help them bring their luggage up once we're all finished," she instructed. "I'd recommend getting some sleep since it's already past 9 and you two have had a long day."

"The Kents live on a _farm_?" Oliver whispered, delighted.

Chloe just rolled her eyes.

"Your hometown is freaking adorable."

This was going to be a long visit.

* * *

><p>"Chloe's Prom Queen tiara?" Chloe father's voice reached her ears on the stairs, and the heavy tote bag in her hands dropped, landing on her foot.<p>

"OW!" she yelled, grabbing her toe and cringing.

"—oh her mother found it years ago in the back of her closet. We were surprised it didn't break—"

"No!" she gasped, foot still throbbing. She scrambled to shove the bag out of the way, only succeeding in tripping.

"—we put it in a box with some of her other things when we cleaned out the room."

"NO!"

"Oh, _here_ it is. There now, oh, look at this, her first toy computer. She was so attached to this thing. Took it everywhere. Of course her mother saved the tiara, but Chloe hated that thing. Can you believe it? Her Nancy Drew collection, of course. And…oh you'll love this."

"**NO!"**

Chloe came bursting into her bedroom, too late to stop her father from handing Oliver a large, taped together manilla folder.

"Dad, _what are you doing?_" she demanded.

Obviously not sensing his daughter's horror, Gabe answered calmly, "Just showing him your old 'Wall of Weird' collection. Chloe was always fascinated by those fake tabloid stories about alien abductions and cloned sheep. Couldn't get enough of the stuff when she was twelve. Used to keep a bulletin board over her desk there with all of the clippings. She was absolutely _convinced_ that aliens were out there. 'course, her tastes developed as she got older. The Wall expanded to the high school newspaper office, but then it was so much alien invasions as it was undercover sleuthing. Woodward and Bernstein kind of stuff. She saved had a copy of every article from Perry White and…who was that woman you worshipped so much Chlo-bear?" her father asked, looking up from the articles, which Oliver was flipping through with a fascinated expression.

"Nelly Bly," Chloe sighed, defeat evident in her voice. "Her name, Dad, was Nelly Bly."

Noticing her tone, Oliver looked up, eyebrow raised. Realizing she was uncomfortable, he gently handed the file back to Gabe and cleared his throat. "Was there anything else in the trunk?"

"No, just that tote. I left it on the stairs because it was too heavy," she said through gritted teeth, walking over to take the folder from her dad and gently setting it on her desk. She then took the box and shoved it in her closet, closing the door firmly behind her. "Thanks, Dad," she said tightly.

He shifted awkwardly. "Everything okay, princess?"

She took a deep breath. "Yes, sorry, Dad. Thanks for helping with the suitcases. But I think Mom's right. Oliver and I should turn in, don't you think? Like Mom said, we had a long day."

His expression eased, and just as Oliver came into the room with Chloe's tote, he kissed his little girl on the forehead and, with a fleeting "Goodnight," in Oliver's direction, left the room.

"You okay?" Oliver asked.

Chloe crossed her arms. "I'm fine. Sorry, I just…I'm really sensitive about _that_," she gestured irritably at the stack of newspaper clippings.

Oliver lifted a shoulder. "Don't be. It's cute."

It was obviously the wrong thing to say. Chloe shot him a look of daggers.

"Sorry!"

She dragged a hand over her face while Oliver set the bag down. "No, I'm sorry. It's just…that stuff is really personal to me."

Oliver cocked his head to the side. "Too personal for the guy who's seen you naked?" he whispered lightly so no one would hear in the hallway. Chloe would have been annoyed if it weren't for the teasing lilt in his voice. It was his way of telling her she could talk about it if she wanted to.

Chloe sat down on her bed, which still had the bright orange bedspread of yester-year on it. "It just always bugged me how my parents never took me seriously about journalism growing up. They just thought it was cute. And it was hard being the girl who believed in aliens, you know? When I was older, I knew the articles I'd found were fakes, but I was always hoping to find something real. I _needed _it to be real." She looked up at him, big green eyes pleading with him to not make fun of her for this.

"Why?"

"Because…" she frowned, as though she had never had to answer that question. "Because I needed there to be something bigger and more important than Earth and humans. There had to be something more than Smallville to the world. Does that make any sense?"

Oliver shoved his hands in his pockets, his shoulders a little tense. "Well, yeah. I mean, I always felt that way as a kid. It was hard thinking that all I was meant for was to take over my dad's business. Not that I'm complaining. I'm lucky. And I know that if I had really ever been truly unhappy, my dad wouldn't have forced me to come work for him. But when I was a kid it felt so…unimportant. I was going to run some big, ambiguous company. Big deal. There were bigger, badder things in the world."

Chloe tried to imagine a tiny Oliver but struggled with the concept. "What did you want to be when you grew up?"

He smirked. "You'll never let me live it down."

"Now I _have_ to know," she grinned.

"Okay, you can never tell anyone this: I wanted to be a superhero."

"What?" Chloe laughed, clapping a hand to her mouth to contain herself.

"I'm serious," he said, chuckling. "I wanted to be a superhero and rescue people. I was going to rob the rich and give to the poor like a modern robin hood or something. That was actually my favorite book, by the way. I take it yours was Nancy Drew?"

Chloe grinned and shook her head. She got off the bed and crouched down on the floor. "My parents still don't know about this," she warned him conspiratorially before prying up a floor board and pulling out a shoebox. "This was where I hid the really _important _stuff, including—" she opened the box and pulled out a large book, "—my first edition collection of Sherlock Holmes stories by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle."

Oliver smiled, coming over to have a look at the book and the box. "Of course. What else is in there?"

Chloe shrugged. "A letter signed by Perry White because I wrote him fan mail when I was 8. He has no idea that was me by the way. I used a pseudonym, and he can never know." She gave Oliver a warning look and he chuckled. She rummaged around the box, uncovering movie tickets and an old bracelet. She smiled when she found a concert ticket. "Clark took me to see Remy Zero in Metropolis that year. They were my favorite band for a hot five minutes before they broke up. Best birthday gift ever. Oh…" she grinned. "And here's the corsage I wore when he took me to homecoming."

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "He was your homecoming date?"

Chloe look unperturbed. "We were best friends and I had a desperate crush on him at the time. It was a good dance. Too bad the whole thing got canceled when a tornado hit. I still remember huddling next to him and Lana and Pete in the gym." She frowned. "It was actually kind of fun, but…I was painfully aware of how in love with Lana Clark was at the time, even though she was there with her Quarterback boyfriend."

"Whatever happened to the quarterback boyfriend?" Oliver mused.

She got a sad look on her face. "Enlisted. Died in Afghanistan a year later. Good guy, in the end. He had a lot of maturing to do back in the day, but…he got there."

"And the other friend? Pete?"

"State Senator at the moment. I think he has some higher political ambitions."

"Hmm. What's this?"

"Oh!" Chloe's face fell. "That's…it's nothing, I mean it's just—" she sighed. "That's a cocktail napkin that I gave Jimmy my number on the first summer I met him. He hung onto it and gave it back to me years later. I didn't realize I'd put that in here." She closed the lid on the box, and Oliver recognized that she was done sharing.

"Listen, I'm gonna hop in the shower if you wanna join me," he wiggled his eyebrows, teasing her, but Chloe pushed him away, laughing.

"Oh my God, not in my parents' house. Ewww!"

He laughed. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Fine, but remember," he said, standing up and heading for her bathroom. "No work. Even when I'm not looking."

Chloe just smiled, crossing her fingers behind her back. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Her phone had gone off about thirty times on the drive that day, with messages from Edward, Vivian, Louise, and countless others, all wanting her opinion on a variety of issues.

* * *

><p>Friday morning began bright and early for Oliver and the Sullivans. Dressed and pressed, Chloe and Oliver dutifully piled into the back of Gabe and Moira's station wagon, Chloe muttering curses until Oliver pushed a thermos of coffee into her hands.<p>

"Marry me?" she joked pathetically, and Oliver chuckled uneasily while Moira giggled up front, finding the statement adorable.

It was a short drive to the Kent's farm, and Oliver found himself further and further distracted by how utterly picturesque this small town was. It was like something out of a story book. And it was hard to imagine intrepid little Chloe, running around with her belief in Aliens and the bizarre in a sleepy little town where no one else could possibly have shared her curiosity. It was sad to think of how protective Chloe was of her passions around her parents. How much had she felt the need to hide from them over the years because they thought of her enthusiasm as simply 'cute?'

At least, Oliver thought, when they pulled into the Kent farm and Chloe embraced Clark like a brother, she had had a good friend. But her own confession of a so-called 'pathetic crush' while he was in love with Lana-the-girl-next-door must have tainted that relationship for a long time. Unrequited love could be crushing.

He swallowed uncomfortably as he looked at Chloe, instead allowing Gabe and Moira to introduce him to Jonathan and Martha Kent, possibly the friendliest couple he had ever met.

"Nice to meet you, Oliver. We've been dying to meet you," Martha said happily, kissing him on the cheek.

"All I can say is it's about time someone scooped up our little Chloe," Jonathan said, shaking his hand firmly, and Oliver felt the callouses of a hard worker. "You're a lucky man."

Oliver coughed. "Don't I know it," he said, winking at Chloe, who was listening in with a comedic expression. She was enjoying this. _Yuck it up, Chloe_, Oliver thought. _You still have to spend Christmas with _my_ family._

"Well listen," Jonathan said. "Oliver, if you and Gabe want to give Clark and me a hand in the barn, we're just getting the table and benches set up. The Lanes should be over from their hotel any minute now."

"I wouldn't count on it, Dad," Clark shook his head. "Getting Lois out of bed first thing in the morning is one thing, but Lois _and_ Lucy?Good luck."

Oliver snickered and Chloe elbowed him in the ribs.

"Come on, Chloe, I need a hand peeling sweet potatoes. You know how these boys eat," Martha said, linking arms with Chloe and dragging her toward the house.

Dragging his eyes from her, Oliver turned instead to Clark to congratulate him on the Sharks' big win the day before, which of course he and the Sullivan's had watched from the edges of their seats. Clark had played a good game, and though his team had struggled through the first half, they had turned it around after half time for a hair-raising last half, scraping a win by 2 points.

In the kitchen, Chloe was set to work peeling sweet potatoes—a relief, given that she wasn't much use at cooking, anyway, while her mother started helping Martha prep the turkey for roasting. Moira had never been much of a cook, either, but under Martha Kent's instructions, everything always turned out right. She was magical that way.

When the Lanes finally did arrive, it was a chaotic mess involving a loudly bickering Lucy and Lois, an irritated General, and a very nervous-looking boyfriend.

"Hey, guys!" Chloe grinned when her cousins entered the kitchen, and Lois rushed over to hug her tightly.

"Missed you!" she whispered, while General Lane apologized to Martha for their tardiness.

"Sorry, Mrs. Kent. The girls took some extra time this morning. You know I believe in punctuality," he threw his daughters a sidelong glance that spoke his displeasure loud and clear. "But we're here now, what can we do to help?"

"Well, you can go check on the men in the barn," Martha said pleasantly. "I'm sure they're set up out there by now, so tell Jonathan you should all go ahead and set the table for me."

"Certainly," the General said curtly, before turning to his niece.

"Chloe," he smiled gruffly, kissing her on top of the head. "Good to see you, Ace."

Chloe smiled and hugged her Uncle in spite of how clearly un-emotional he was attempting to be. That was the trouble with General Lane. He hadn't seen her in almost 2 years, and he was still trying to act like he didn't get emotional. He looked surprised when she hugged him, but then gave in and gave her a rough squeeze in return.

"Lucy," he ordered, "introduce your guest."

"Yes, sir," Lucy said, and there was no mistaking the certain tone of sarcasm in her voice, although it was quite possible her own father missed it. "Everyone, this is Wes, my boyfriend. Wes, this is my cousin, Chloe. She's the one who's engaged to the billionaire. This is Aunt Moira, who has the misfortune of being related to us. And that's Martha Kent. She lives here."

Moira and Chloe were too busy wondering whether they should feel offended by their share in the introductions, so Martha swept in and embraced Wes kindly, smoothing over the moment. "Welcome, Wes," she smiled. "It's good to have you. Any food allergies I should know about?"

Wes shook his head. "No, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am."

"Stop talking like you're at basic training, Wes," Lucy rolled her eyes. "Let's go see what the boys are up to. I don't do kitchens."

Lois and Chloe watched Lucy escort her boyfriend away with matching arched eyebrows.

"So _that's_ happening," Lois deadpanned.

"I see. Is he nice?"

"Yeah, he's actually an ex. We had a fling for five minutes years ago, but he was a really good guy. He might actually be a good influence on Lucy."

"Lucy's dating one of your exes?" Chloe turned to her cousin, surprised.

Lois shrugged. "Ancient history. Doesn't bother me and obviously doesn't bother them. So whatever."

"Huh. Well, catch me up on everything at the _Planet_," Chloe instructed, passing Lois a peeler, so she could get to work on the carrots.


	21. Chapter 20 Continued

**Nothing new to add except yes, I will still be leaving FFN at the end of this fanfic, and no, I will not be deleting my stories from here until such time as I can transfer them elsewhere. Thank you for all the messages and kind words. You can still PM me if you want to find out where I will be moving and posting in the future.**

**That's all! Enjoy! Warning: serious smut ahead! ;)**

* * *

><p>When everything was finally laid out on the table in the barn hours later, Oliver was starving. He'd barely eaten anything all day, except for some cheese and crackers that Mrs. Kent had set out to stave everyone's hunger. They had managed to shove together two large picnic tables and spread out two of Mrs. Kent's good, long golden table cloths, and with the nice dishes and platters of piping hot, home-cooked food piled high, nothing had ever looked so delicious.<p>

He sat between Chloe and Clark, and across from Lucy and her boyfriend, a young man in the army who appeared to be doing his best to not draw too much attention to himself. It was evident that he was intimidated by his girlfriend's father at the end of the table. "Jonathan, will you say Grace?" Martha asked when she at last arrived, walking to her seat beside him at the other end of the table.

"Of course." They bowed their heads and held hands. "Heavenly Father we thank you for this bountiful year, for good friends and for family, for this opportunity to be together, and for the incredible meal that You have placed before us. Thank you, Lord. Amen."

They all whispered their 'amens' and Chloe squeezed his hand before releasing it. He glanced at her but she was already reaching for the mashed potatoes, piling them onto her plate before passing them to her left.

"All right, I don't know about the Kents, but in our family it's tradition for everyone to say what they're thankful for this year while we pass the food," General Lane announced. "Shall we?"

"Of course," Martha said, smiling. "I think that would be lovely. Lois, would you like to start us off?" she asked her soon-to-be daughter in law, who laughed.

"I'm grateful not to have to look at any more bridesmaid's dresses." At a stern look from her father, she sobered up a bit. "I'm grateful for Clark, for keeping me grounded no matter what's happening in my life. And I'm grateful to have such a fulfilling job at the _Planet._" She turned to her father next to her.

"Well I have to say I'm grateful to be gaining a son soon," General Lane raised his wine goblet in Clark's direction. "You're a fine young man, Clark, and I might've been a little wary at first, but I can see that you love my daughter and that's what matters."

It was probably the most sentimental thing Lois, Chloe, or Lucy had ever heard the General say, which was why it took a moment for Lucy to realize that her mouth was hanging open and it was her turn.

"I'm thankful for not flunking out of college yet." Which was her way of saying she was thankful she was still getting straight A's. "And for not being broke yet." And for getting out of debt.

"Um…" Wes hesitated, his eyes darting nervously in the General's direction. "I'm grateful for Lu, for always making me laugh when things get too serious."

Oliver saw Lucy glance at her boyfriend, an unmistakably pleased expression on her face. She pecked him on the cheek, and it wasn't until the General cleared his throat that they moved on to Martha.

"I'm grateful for family," Martha said, smiling at her husband. "And I'm thankful that it's going to be growing. Lois, we're so glad to have you and your family here."

Oliver watched Lois's cheeks actually turn pink while Mrs. Kent passed a casserole dish to her husband, who looked like he was chewing over his words as he accepted. "I'm so thankful for the Lanes as well, and for my beautiful wife and my wonderful son. I'm thankful that this farm is still running and self-sustaining. I'm thankful for good food and company," he said. "And for such a wonderful cook," he winked at his wife, who gave him an amused smile. "Chloe?" Jonathan asked, turning to his right.

Chloe was dishing up some cranberry sauce onto her plate and seemed to be a little uncomfortable. "I'm always say that I'm thankful for my job, and that's still true, but I feel like I have to say that I'm thankful for the people who love me, who care so much about my happiness. I've been blown away by that fact this year." She didn't look at Oliver, and he would have given anything to be able to read her mind in that moment.

"Oliver?" someone prompted him and he started a little. He cleared his throat, trying to think of an honest answer. "I'm thankful…not to be alone at the end of the day when I come home. I'm thankful for Chloe and her company and that she doesn't mind having a jerk like me around." He reached under the table and squeezed her hand, swallowing a lump in his throat and deciding not to say anything else for fear of going too far. "That leaves you, Clark," he turned to the man next to him, forcing a light-hearted smile.

Everyone was beaming at Oliver, including Clark, who finally turned to Lois and said, "I think Oliver took the words out of my mouth, Lois. I'm so grateful that this wonderful woman, that you are willing to not only keep me company every day, but that you've agreed to keep me company every day for the rest of my life." He leaned over and kissed Lois modestly.

"Back atcha, Smallville," Lois said, winking at him.

Sam Lane cleared his throat. Clearly this was enough sentimentality. Oliver wondered how often he actually _got_ sentimental around his daughters and niece, but his thoughts were immediately deterred when Chloe passed him the gravy and he could finally dig into everything on his plate. He couldn't remember ever being so hungry or anything tasting quite so delicious.

"You've done it again, Martha, absolutely incredible."

"Hear, hear," said the General.

"Absolutely amazing, Mom," Clark agreed.

Martha just beamed. "Well, I had plenty of help. Thank you, ladies."

Lois snorted. "Yeah, God knows what would have happened if Chloe and I hadn't been there to peel vegetables."

"You girls were a big help."

Chloe chuckled. "Thanks, Mrs. Kent."

"So you mentioned bridesmaid's dresses earlier, Lois. How _is_ the wedding planning going?"

"It's really starting to move along. We've finally arranged everything with the stadium and Clark and I picked out his tux and the tuxes for the groomsmen. I've received all the RSVPs that I was waiting on," Lois took a drink of wine. "I'm actually starting to relax a little bit."

Clark snorted and Lois elbowed him. He gave her an innocent look, and Oliver chuckled.

"What about you, Chloe?" Chloe's mother asked. "I've been in touch with Oliver's mother about everything, but I barely hear from you. Have you two set a date, yet?"

"We…um…well, I figured we should pick a venue and then set an official date, but—"

"We've been thinking late May or early June," Oliver chimed in to save her. She looked distinctly uncomfortable and Oliver didn't blame her.

"What about the color scheme?" Lois asked. "We were talking about gold or green last time I saw you."

"Green?" Oliver asked.

"She looks fabulous in green," Lois explained.

Oliver smirked, "I like green."

Chloe gave him a subtle glare that no one else caught, but he could see the laughter playing on her lips. "Your mother really likes gold for us, though."

Oliver shrugged. "She'll like what you like."

"Of course," Moira agreed. "It's your wedding, Chloe. Pick what you like."

"But don't take too long on setting that date, you two," Jonathan added. "With the circle you lot run in, people need to mark their calendars long in advance."

"Oh, right, of course," Chloe agreed readily. "We're working on it."

"Are you gonna get married in a church?" Lucy questioned through a mouthful of turkey. Her father glared at her manners but she chose to ignore it.

Chloe looked at Oliver for help.

"We…weren't sure yet. There was some talk of a destination wedding, but…we decided that wasn't really for us."

"I remember Chloe telling me once that she wanted to get married in this barn," Martha chuckled.

Oliver raised an eyebrow at a now bright pink Chloe. "I was ten at the time. And I might add that that was back when everyone thought Clark and I were going to get married when we were grown up," she rolled her eyes humorously and Oliver heard Clark chuckle next to him.

"Thank God everyone saw reason eventually," Lois grinned, winking at her cousin.

Oliver failed to see what was so humorous about Chloe's former crush on Clark, but apparently it was now the subject of fond memory, he decided, watching Martha shake her head, eyes sparkling with delight.

"I think everything worked out for the best on that front," Jonathan winked at Oliver, who was busy picturing Chloe getting married in the barn, probably draped in white and twinkling with Christmas lights. It was a little too easy to picture.

"When I talked to Oliver's mother last, she and I discussed a ballroom in a nice hotel somewhere. She thinks we should look in Metropolis since that's where most of my family is," Chloe brought the subject around, "but I don't want anyone to feel excluded."

"Nonsense," the General said. "It's your wedding. The people who matter will be there no matter where it is. Pass the salt and pepper, Wes."

Wes jumped at being addressed directly but managed to pass the shakers with a respectable amount of calm about him. The General side-eyed him as he accepted them across Lucy's plate, but said nothing. Oliver suspected that this was the best interaction the two had had so far.

"I think a ball room would be lovely for you, Chloe. I can just see you in a ball gown with a long, sweeping train," Moira said pleasantly. "That sounds like a great idea. Maybe I can meet you in Metropolis next month and we can look at some places," she added hopefully.

Oliver saw Chloe's almost imperceptible hesitation before she replied, "That'd be nice, Mom," and he wondered if anyone else had caught it. He suspected that Clark and Lois, the two at the table who arguably knew Chloe best, had, but they said nothing.

Deciding a change of subject was in order, Oliver decided to ask Lucy and Wes how they had met. He felt Chloe relax a little beside him now that the spotlight was off of her and knew that he had done the right thing.

* * *

><p>When Oliver and Chloe's family finally returned to the Sullivan home that evening, they were stuffed to the limit, and considerably sleepy, even though it was only just after 9:00 in the evening.<p>

Oliver and Chloe tiredly climbed the stairs to her former bedroom, Oliver shutting the door behind them. He grabbed her hand and spun her around, pulling her in for a weary kiss. Chloe laughed, her head falling back, inspiring him to kiss his way along her throat instead.

"What are you _doing?_" she chuckled.

"We have not had one moment alone since we got out of the car two days ago," Oliver rumbled against the base of her neck. Chloe shuddered as the tremors of his voice sent a shiver down her spine. Her hands slid up his arms to steady herself.

"_Ollie. Not in my parents' house,_" Chloe chided, but Oliver was just amused that she had called him by his nickname.

"_But Chlo-ee,"_ he mimicked her whining tone, "it's not like we're doing anything wrong."

Chloe scoffed at the complete and utter falsehood of that statement. His hands swept down her back, grabbing her ass and pressing her more tightly against, and she groaned.

At that moment her phone vibrated and Oliver paused, frowning. He looked between them at her cleavage. "Did that just come from—"

Chloe was already pulling her phone out of her bra to check the message on the screen.

"Is that work?" Oliver asked suspiciously.

"I'm just making sure," Chloe said, avoiding the question. "I'm allowed to check messages, aren't I?"

Oliver narrowed his eyes. "Not if they're from work."

She rolled her eyes. "Well how am I going to know if they're from work if I don't check them? It could just as easily be Dinah and A.C. wishing me a Happy Thanksgiving."

"Is it?"

The way she bit her lip answered his question immediately.

"Chloe…drop the phone or admit defeat," Oliver informed her.

Smirking devilishly, Chloe tossed her phone over her shoulder (knowing she could check it while he was sleeping like she had the night before) and wrapped her arms back around his neck. "Now where were we?" she asked suggestively, leading him back towards her bed and trying to ignore the sound of her phone vibrating a second time.

Oliver brushed his nose against hers and brought one of her hands down to the hard ridge of his growing erection, pressing into her hand. "We were discussing this," he said lustfully.

A chime went off and it was Chloe's turn to freeze, raising an amused eyebrow at him.

Oliver stood stock-still, staring her down before slowly reaching into his back pocket to pull out his cell phone. His eyes didn't leave Chloe's. "It's probably my parents," he said seriously.

Chloe's eyebrow quirked. "Oh, so _you're_ allowed to check, huh?"

"Well like you said. There's only one way to know."

Chloe's eyes narrowed and Oliver's darted to the phone in his hand. "Well?" she asked. "Is it your parents?"

Oliver brought his eyes back to her and she knew the answer.

"Admitting defeat, Queen?"

"Not on your life, Sullivan," Oliver said, dropping the phone at their feet and in one swift movement, hoisting Chloe up to wrap her legs around his waist. "I have _far_ more pressing needs, if you catch my drift."

Chloe moaned, rubbing against him and feeling her thighs tense with need. "What are you planning to do about that, Mr. Queen?" Chloe asked, biting his ear.

Oliver shuddered, wildly aroused by the formal address. "I'm going t—"

There was a knock at the door, and for the third time, they both froze in place.

Oliver almost whimpered and Chloe let out a small whining noise. "Maybe if we pretend we're asleep—"

"The light's on," Chloe reminded him.

"We fell asleep with the lights on because we were so tired."

Another knock sounded and Moira's voice came through the door. "Chloe, honey? Can I have a second? I want to give you something."

Chloe gave Oliver a helpless look and he lowered her to the ground. He stood with his back to the door, trying to control himself.

"Sure, Mom, coming!" Chloe said, reaching the door and poking her head through. "What did you need?" she asked.

"Are you both decent? I just had something for you."

Chloe bit back a sigh. "Sure, Mom." She opened the door the rest of the way and allowed her mother to come in. There was an awkward silence before Oliver took the hint.

"I'm going to…go…get water," he said, excusing himself from the room.

Moira smiled. "So I was thinking about the wedding, and—"

"Mom, I promise we can go look at venues together, it's fine," Chloe said, resisting an urge to roll her eyes. Her mother had dropped the suggestion at least four times that day.

"Not that, but good," Moira dismissed, waving her off. "I was thinking about it, and I was remembering your father's and my wedding and what I wore and what I think would look nice on you—"

"Mom," Chloe warned. She did _not_ need more advice about wedding gowns. She was sick of the whole subject.

"And I know there's this tradition of something old, something new, etcetera and I know that your engagement ring will be your something old, so I wanted to know if you'd like to borrow the earrings I wore at my wedding," her mother finished, presenting Chloe with a small velvet box.

Chloe looked stunned. Whatever she had been expecting, this hadn't been it. "Oh," she said blankly.

"Well go on, have a look at them and see if you like them."

From the look on her mother's face, Chloe knew that even if they were the most hideous earrings on the face of the planet, she would lie through her teeth and tell Moira that she loved them. Because that was what good daughters did.

Chloe reached for the box and took it from her mother's hands, popping open the hinged lid. They were anything but hideous. A pair of tiny silver flowers with diamond chips set into them, they were modest but lovely, exactly the sort of thing Chloe could picture a younger version of her mother wearing. "Mom," she tilted her head, "they're beautiful. I'd love to wear them." _Too bad that will never happen. It would have been wonderful to wear these._

"You're sure you like them?"

"They're great," Chloe said, giving her mother a hug. "Really. I love them."

"Okay, well," her mother said, clearly teary eyed but pretending not to be. "I just…well, good. I'm going to bed then. We're all exhausted."

Moira whisked out of the room and Chloe stared at the jewelry a moment longer, feeling a rush of affection for her mother. She knew she wasn't always the best daughter, but she and her mother really did love each other.

In the midst of her sentimental moment, Chloe's phone buzzed from the floor. She looked at it. She looked at the door.

No sign of Oliver yet.

She rushed to the phone and instantly pulled up her several mixed texts from Edward. The post holiday commotion simply couldn't wait, and she began firing off instructions in texts, until a loud, "AHA!" from the doorway made her jump out of her skin. She turned to find Oliver standing in the doorway, a smug look on his face. "Hand over the phone, Sullivan. You lose."

* * *

><p>The first day that Oliver came home from work after the holiday, he found a sticky note on the door.<p>

"_Welcome home."_

He smiled, raising an eyebrow at the odd gesture, and proceeded into the apartment, where he kicked off his shoes before he found a second note on the counter.

"_Check the fridge," _it read.

Raising an eyebrow, he walked over to the fridge and pulled open the door, where he found a bottle of Chocolate syrup sitting isolated in the middle of an empty shelf. He felt a surge of heat as he pulled a third note from the bottle.

"_Bring it with you. I'm waiting."_

Swallowing tightly, it was about all Oliver could do to keep from sprinting to the bedroom, but he found no sign of Chloe there.

"Chloe?" he called out tentatively, before spotting the trail of her clothes leading to the bathroom. He followed them, and when he found Chloe in the bathroom, sitting on the edge of the bathtub in a matching chocolate brown corset and lace boy shorts, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

Chloe grinned, catlike. It had been a good day back to work, and although she had argued against her defeat in their bet for the last few days, today, in this moment, she didn't mind holding up her end of the bargain. "You're late," she accused.

It was true. He'd gotten home later than expected. But he couldn't quite unscramble his thoughts enough to form any kind of reply.

Chloe sighed. "I was lonely," she said dramatically, before giving him a sly look. "I had to start without you." She slid her hand down her body and beneath her panties. When she removed her fingers, they were glistening. "Twice."

Oliver was across the room in a flash, dropping the bottle of syrup to slide his hands around her waist lustfully, bringing his lips crashing down on hers.

Chloe let out a burst of surprised laughter, making it impossible to keep kissing her lips, so he started sucking on her neck instead, determined to leave a nice, dark mark that she'd have trouble hiding later. "You," he said with an irrepressible grin, "are full of surprises, Sullivan."

"You didn't think I'd go through with it, did you?" she asked, smirking.

He quirked an eyebrow, tilting his head. "I had my doubts."

Chloe pressed her lips together, eyes dancing as she stood in front of him, before sliding down his body and crouching in front of him, being sure to graze the considerable bulge in his slacks as she did so. She bit her lip when he involuntarily bucked towards her just slightly. But instead of touching him further, she picked up the bottle of chocolate syrup and sat back down on the edge of the bathtub. She popped open the cap and poured a little on her finger, not caring when a drop missed and landed on her thigh. Oliver's eyes followed the drop as it rolled over her skin, threatening to slide all the way down her inner thigh. Until he heard Chloe's satisfied, "mmmm," as she licked the chocolate from her finger. "I have to admit," she said calmly. "I love chocolate almost as much as coffee."

He glared at her. "I thought the deal, Sullivan, was that you were going to lick the chocolate off of _me_," he teased.

"Well _you_, _Queen_," she mimicked, "are still wearing all of your clothes." She poured some more syrup on her finger, swirling her tongue around it to make sure she didn't miss any, a bored manner about her.

"So bossy," Oliver rolled his eyes, loosening his tie with a grin. "And I've got a lot of clothes here, Sullivan. You might have to help me out."

But Chloe just shook her head, clearly amused. "I've been waiting all this time on you, and you didn't even have the courtesy to show up naked," she chided as he tossed the tie aside and began unbuttoning his dark blue shirt. "I'm not helping you with anything." She paused before looking up at him and winking. "Yet."

She leaned her head back and poured a little syrup directly into her mouth, causing Oliver's hands to slip on the last button of his shirt. He recovered quickly and shoved it off his shoulders before wrenching open the button of his slacks and dropping them.

It was Chloe's turn to give pause when she saw the already impressive erection straining at his underwear. A rush of heat flooded her already soaked panties.

Oliver was giving her an arrogant look, hooking his thumbs in the waistband and taking a painfully long time deciding whether to take them off for her. She licked her lips unconsciously and Oliver gave in.

Chloe grinned and grabbed his hand, pulling him into the tub with her. She'd been admiring the large, relatively unused bathtub in Oliver's master bathroom for some time, longing for a good excuse to take a bubble bath in it. This was even better.

Oliver stepped into the tub with her and spotted the tiniest smear of chocolate on the inner edge of her bottom lip, he tried to lean in and kiss it off of her, but she shook her head, dodging back and laughing lightly. "Not yet," she said. "I get to have my fun first."

"Sullivan, you are _killing _me here," he groaned, grabbing her roughly by the hips and pulling her closer.

"You are so _impatient_," she complained, stepping behind him. "Now sit down," she laughed. She couldn't help it. Why was this so much fun? She couldn't ever remember feeling this comfortable with anyone. Maybe when you didn't have the stakes of a real romance, it took the pressure off. It was nice being able to trust Oliver, who was currently obliging her and sitting down in the tub. She grabbed a towel from the other side of the tub and placed it under her knees so she could kneel comfortably behind him. It might get chocolate on it, but at least she was sparing his sheets.

Pouring a small puddle of chocolate syrup into one of her hands, she then rubbed them together and used it as a lubricant to begin massaging the kinks out of his shoulders.

Oliver shuddered from the cold syrup before he felt Chloe's slick hands begin to work the knots in his back, the lace and silk of her lingerie rubbing against him suggestively. Small, delicate fingers rubbed over his back, and he suddenly remembered Chloe's earlier suggestion that she had been playing with herself while she waited on him. "Oh my _God_."

Chloe smirked. She leaned over and dragged her tongue across his left shoulder, licking up the sweet smear of chocolate syrup her hands had left there. Oliver leaned back into her ministrations.

"Oh, God, Chloe. That feels amazing." His hand reached up and tangled in her hair, holding her to his neck as she reached that one sweet spot that he loved, her soft tongue raking across the sensitive skin there.

She pressed her breasts against his back, and he had no doubt that some of the chocolate had just smeared across her body as well. His head lolled back to rest on her shoulder and she giggled, pushing him to the side and climbing around him to straddle his waist, her stomach just brushing against his hard cock. Gently she nudged him until he was laying all the way back, resting his head on the edge of the tub. She grabbed the chocolate bottle and poured a thin line of syrup straight down his chest and stomach.

Oliver watched her as she poured more chocolate onto her finger, sucking her whole finger in and out of her mouth suggestively, eyes falling shut as she completely cleaned it.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she saw his own staring back at her with a darkened, smoldering look. She wasn't used to being the one in control with Oliver. She was honestly surprised he was even willing to let her call the shots, but it was giving her a rush. Hungrily, she leaned forward and licked the top of the line of syrup on his chest with her flattened tongue, moaning as she rocked her hips against him, attempting to ease a little of the pressure building between her legs. She ran her thumb along the next part of the line of chocolate and then rubbed it over his nipple curiously. When she leaned forward and sucked it off, Oliver let loose a loud grunt of pleasure, and she smiled as she licked it again, rewarded. She did the same to the other side and his hands buried in her hair again, encouraging her to linger a little longer before returning to the trail of syrup she was working her way down. She licked and nipped and sucked, torturing him slowly all the way down until she had nowhere left to go. Once again she poured some syrup into her hand before grasping his dick firmly in her hand and stroking it. The sound that escaped his lips was almost feral and Chloe rocked her hips again, moaning. She rubbed the pad of her thumb over the tip of his cock, leaving a thin trace of chocolate mixed with the bead of pre-cum that had appeared there. Licking her lips, Chloe slid further down his body, straddling his leg so she could press her aching pussy against it as she closed her mouth around him, swallowing as much of his long, hard shaft as she could and making up the rest of the distance with her hand, continuing to stroke him as she began to bob her head up and down around him, her tongue swirling around him all the while. She hummed with pleasure as she tried to find that right spot to release the pressure on her clit, rubbing against him and cupping his balls. His hands tightened in her hair and she moaned louder, the vibrations traveling down his cock and causing him to call out her name. She paused a moment, sucking on the very tip of his dick before lowering her head further to lick him from base to tip, flicking her tongue over the sensitive end. Oliver's hips jerked and she laughed, demanding he hold still because she couldn't possibly hold him down.

"Chloe," he barely managed to grunt. "You've got to—"

But she had already wrapped her lips around him again, hollowing her cheeks as she swallowed him again and again, bringing him closer and closer. She continued stroking his base with her hand. It was when her body slipped slightly, causing a particularly pleasurable amount of friction on her pussy that she gave a high pitched whine around him and he lost control.

"Chloe!" he warned, but she was having none of it, continuing to suck on him as she rubbed against his thigh, whining noises increasing as she got closer herself. With an uncontrollable yell he came inside her mouth, spilling his hot seed into her which she attempted to swallow.

Oliver lost whatever grip on sanity he had left, pushing Chloe back and crawling over her, capturing her mouth in his, the taste of sweet chocolate mixing with the salty flavor of his cum blended on her tongue. "You," he said against her mouth, "are fucking," he wrenched open the hooks on the front of her corset, "incredible."

Chloe cried out when Oliver's mouth dipped down and latched around her breast, her corset left spread open beneath her. She arched her back into his mouth, her breath coming raggedly as she pressed her legs together, so close but so far from climaxing. His hands roughly grabbed her breasts and his thumbs flicked across her nipples, bringing the pert pink buds to attention. Chloe whimpered and bucked her hips. In his effort to drag her panties down her smooth, creamy legs, he accidentally ripped them. Tossing them aside he shoved her legs open and in a second his head was buried in her dripping cunt, tongue dipping inside of her and licking her hard.

"Oh my God, _Ollie!_" she gasped, frantically clutching for purchase along the smooth sides of the bathtub. He fucked her slit with his tongue relentlessly while holding her thighs wide apart for him, grounding her hips and Chloe could do barely more than plead with him. She wasn't sure what she was asking for, she only knew she was chanting the word "Please!" like her life depended on it. He flicked a finger over her clit and Chloe screamed. So he brought his mouth up to suck on the hardened bud, feeling his softened cock beginning to come back to life as Chloe's desperation grew. "Oh, God, Ollie! FUCK!" she cried out as his tongue swirled around her clit and he sucked on it, lips wrapped tightly around it. He slid two fingers inside of her and curled them up stroking her insides as he refused to relieve the slightest amount of pressure on her clit until finally she came, thundering and sobbing and calling out to him, her entire body shuddering until she melted limply beneath him, chest rising and falling heavily.

"Fuck," Oliver whispered. She was fucking amazing. "You are fucking amazing." He licked at her juices again, a long, dragging lick all the way up and over her clit before he lifted himself up to kiss her soft, smooth stomach. The forgotten bottle of chocolate syrup caught his eyes, and he grabbed it, pouring a messy line across her breasts before lapping it up.

Chloe whimpered incoherently, her hands jerking as though in a weak attempt to reach for him. Oliver stroked his cock a few times, languidly looking over the perfection of her beautiful naked body. The chocolate remnants on both of them was getting sticky, and Oliver suddenly understood the intelligence of her choice to use the bathtub for this. Leave it to Chloe to think that far ahead. Reaching under her, he lifted her gently, pulling her corset from underneath her and tossing it and the bottle of chocolate syrup out of the bath before plugging the drain. He pulled her forward to straddle his lap, bare chests pressing flushed against one another as he reached behind her for the taps, running some warm water.

Her hardened nipples grazed against Oliver's chest and Chloe shuddered, still seeing stars. Dear Lord, there were some things your own hand just _couldn't do._

Oliver chuckled and Chloe realized with flushed embarrassment that her last thought had been out loud. "Glad to hear it," Oliver said, undeniable arrogance in his voice, which made Chloe chuckle. Oliver scooped up a bit of the steaming water pooling around them and poured it over her chest, rubbing away the chocolatey residue, lingering an unnecessary amount of time on each of her breasts. Chloe hummed luxuriously before beginning to rinse his back for him, and then his chest, and then….

"Again? Goddammit, Queen. Aren't you ever satisfied?" Chloe joked weakly, her body already beginning to protest with tomorrow's soreness.

"No," he said stubbornly, giving her lips a teasing kiss and pressing his dick against her stomach. She moaned into his mouth. He reached back and shut the water off and unplugged the drain before lifting her up in his arms, careful not to slip as he stepped out of the bathtub and onto the matt, carrying her into the bedroom, where he tossed her onto the bed.

She laughed as she fell back onto the pillow, ignoring her body's protests while Oliver climbed predatorily over her. She bit her lip as she caught his eyes, unable to fight the smile building.

"I'm going to wipe that cocky little smirk off your face," Oliver warned, and Chloe gave him a challenging look.

"Oh?" she asked.

"Mmhmm," he said, narrowing his eyes at her suggestively. "Because the next time I have you here, I'm going to tie your hands to the bedpost with my tie, and I'm going to keep eating you out, bringing you right to the point of coming over and over, only to stop every time, until you're begging for your release."

Chloe's mouth fell open slightly as her eyes widened, and a fresh flood of arousal flowed between her legs. Oliver caught the faint sound of her gasp and realized the idea wasn't unappealing to her at all.

She collected herself just long enough to ask in what she meant to be a daring voice, though it came out someone meekly, "And now?"

"Now…I'm going to fuck you senseless," he informed her, rolling her onto her stomach and drawing her onto her hands and knees. His hands grasped her buttocks and she gasped in surprise. Oliver's dick pressed against her ass and she rocked back greedily against him. "But not," he said, slipping his cock between her folds to slide along in her juices, "until you ask me for it. Nicely."

Chloe moaned, her head dropping forward while Oliver slid up and down her wet pussy. _"Oliver," _she practically growled.

Oliver just pulled back and stroked his now slick cock, waiting.

"Oliver!" she rocked her hips back in encouragement, but he held her steady.

"Yes?" he asked innocently, as though he weren't perfectly aware that he was torturing her.

"Oliver, _please,_" she said through gritted teeth, barely able to prevent the whining sound in her voice.

"Please what?"

"Oliver, please, for the love of God, just f-UCK!" She cried out on the last syllable as Oliver rammed inside of her, burying himself to the hilt then drawing back and pounding into her again.

Even in the midst of the most satisfying feeling of fullness, Chloe chuckled, shaking her head. "God, you are just—" she gasped breathlessly, "—_such_ an _ass."_

Oliver grunted as he continued pounding into her. "You're right," he said, giving her right cheek a smart little smack with his hand, "you do have an incredible ass." He squeezed it. "Or isn't that what you said."

"You love the sound of your own VOICE!" His hands had reached around to pinch her tits, eliciting another loud cry.

"You're the one who won't shut up while I'm trying to fucking make you cum!" he asserted, tweaking her nipples again and continuing to to thrust inside of her at a furious pace. "Would you kindly stop trying to interrupt?" he joked.

She would have laughed if she could have concentrated on what he was saying, her back arching wildly with pleasure. She felt one of his hands slide possessively toward the base of her throat to steady her—a gesture which once would have sent her into a panic attack, but now gave her a surge of wanton pleasure—and the other dragged lazily downward until it reached her pussy, where he began rubbing hard circles on her clit. Her cries mounted harder and higher until she came crashing over the edge, Oliver riding her straight through it, finally rolling her onto her back and burying himself inside of her again, dragging his hand along her leg to throw it over his shoulder.

"Oliver," she murmured. _"Ollie!"_

It was as he came for the second time that night that it finally hit him that she had started calling him by his nickname in bed. _When had that happened?_ his brain managed to wonder as his body stuttered and jerked, and he went limp inside of her. He couldn't think about pulling out of her just yet, and instead, wrapping her legs around his waist, he dropped to the bed beside her, rolling her with him and remaining buried inside of her still tight channel.

"That was…."

"Fun," Chloe supplied simply, exhaustedly.

Oliver chuckled. "Not the word I was going to use, but—"

"It was," she argued.

"It was," he agreed.

"Most fun I've had in a long time." A very long time.

He kissed her warmly, a tired, searing kiss.

"I have to sleep," she reminded him. "Work in the morning, remember."

"Work, work, work. That's what got you into this mess, remember?"

She smirked. "Yes. Horrible, that."

"Just so long as we're clear. We're probably going to have to have hot, kinky sex every time you work too hard."

"So…all the time, then?"

Oliver grinned and she shoved at his chest playfully.

"Let me _sleep_, damn you."

"Fine, fine. But you should just know two things first."

"Oh?" she murmured, eyes closed and face buried in his chest.

"One. Every time I see an ice cream sundae now, I'm going to think about fucking you."

Chloe moaned and he felt her walls flutter around him. He grinned with satisfaction.

"And two: you are going to be so sore at work tomorrow and you're going to be horny thinking about this all day."

"That's three things," she whined, shifting against him as his words washed over her, turning her on even more.

"Yeah, well, I won the bet. I can say as many things as I want."

"Shut up."

"Yes, dear."


	22. Chapter 21

**Back again! I hope everyone's had a lovely month and that you've been wary of the Ides of March today. ;) Sorry it took a while longer than planned to get this up today, but on the bright side, it's nice and long and full of juicy goodness.**

—21—

"So have you given any thought at all to the actual wedding dress?"

Chloe shook her head idly, feeling a bit overwhelmed by silks and chiffons and taffetas as she looked around.

"That's all right, no pressure, dear," Laura Queen said easily, holding up a pretty satin number and studying it thoughtfully. "But remember, it will probably have to be altered, so don't leave it until too late."

Chloe didn't need to be told that. After all, her work involved the fashion industry. But Laura said it in a casual, non-pointed way, as if she were really just voicing the thought as it occurred to her. In a motherly way.

"Well, now that you've finally set a date, you can really get down to business," she continued. "I know you're like me: we're both planners. We like to have a structured schedule. Oliver gets his flexibility from his father; trust me."

Chloe smiled amusedly. She and Oliver had finally been forced by all sides to pick a date for their fictitious wedding, and Laura had already advised her to look at stationery for save-the-dates. Chloe wondered uncomfortably exactly _which_ circle of hell was reserved for those who stoop to deceiving Laura Queen.

"Oh, what do you think of this?" Laura asked, holding up a soft teal dress with a pretty beaded bolero.

"I think it would look stunning on you." The truth was, just about anything would probably look good on Laura, and she had impeccable taste, so the idea that she needed Chloe's help in finding a mother-of-the-groom dress was an almost laughable ruse. But Chloe understood that she was just looking for a chance to bond with her future-daughter-in-law, so she had more than happily taken a Saturday afternoon to oblige her. "It's not very spring-y, though."

Laura nodded. "I agree. I suppose it's a bit early to be shopping for a spring wedding. And you're not even sure how formal it's going to be. But I couldn't resist at least looking for a few ideas with you. What are you wearing for Gotham?"

She was referring, of course, to Diana and Bruce's wedding, which Mr. and Mrs. Queen would also be attending. The whole family had decided to fly commercial together, something which gave Chloe heart-palpitations. Not because she was concerned about flying commercial—which she had always done before meeting Oliver—but because she was going to be spending an entire day flying trans-continent with the Queens and then flying back for Christmas with them.

That was a lot of up-close-and-personal time with Oliver's family. And there would be so many people watching.

She supposed, really, she could get some sleep on the plane, and that would help.

"Well Diana picked out some beautiful red velvet bridesmaid's dresses. Very classic silouhettes and perfect for a Christmas wedding. I've got a nice olive green sweater dress for the rehearsal dinner. You?"

"Oh, that sounds stunning. I can't wait to see how that wedding turns out. Diana Prince has a reputation for the extraordinary. I've got a very nice midnight blue gown for the occasion. You'll love it. Very haute couture. Or so the designer told me," she smiled indulgently.

"It sounds nice."

"It is. I think it's very heavy, though. I'm so glad you and Oliver will have a summer wedding, Chloe. I think sunshine and light, airy things suit you a little better. Oh, maybe you could get married in the park!"

Chloe laughed. "Hey, careful! My mom has already laid claim on pressuring me about the venue. You only get to pressure me about the bridesmaids' dresses."

Laura laughed and Chloe followed her to the dressing room.

* * *

><p>Five hours on a plane.<p>

Five.

_Hours_.

She was going to murder Oliver Queen before this flight was over.

Chloe shot him a scathing look and mouthed _'Stop It' _at him, but he just smirked devilishly.

About an hour into their flight, after Laura and Robert Queen had reclined their seats and fallen asleep, the flight attendants had come around with a post dinner dessert. Ice Cream Sundaes. As if the coincidence weren't bad enough, Oliver had also discovered the exciting development of seat-to-seat instant messaging on their seat-back monitors around the same time. So in addition to telling the flight attendant, who had offered Oliver a choice of chocolate, butterscotch, or mixed berries on his ice cream, "I'll have chocolate syrup. Extra chocolate syrup," he had also started sending dirty texts to her seat.

**Seat 2E** how's your sundae?

**Seat 2E** mine's delicious.

**Seat 2E** remember the last time we had a sundae?

**Seat 2E** only there wasn't any ice cream

**Seat 2E** because you were licking it off of my naked body

A pause while Chloe stared at the screen in horror. Then…

**Seat 2E** Chloe.

**Seat 2E** Chloe.

**Seat 2E** why are you ignoring me, Chloe?

**Seat 2E** is this thing working?

**Seat 2E** chloechloechloechloechloe

**Seat 2D** OLIVER FOR THE LOVE OF GOD CUT IT OUT!

She glared at him from around the small partition between their seats, meant to create a little privacy if desired, but he just licked some of the chocolate off of his spoon, wiggling his eyebrows at her. He typed something and another message showed up on her screen.

**Seat 2E** Oh good it does work. Hi Chloe.

Chloe groaned, sinking further into her seat and trying to read her book. She peered over the top of it after a couple of minutes, unable to resist.

**Seat 2E** this is really good. I mean, not as good as licking it off your breasts while you moan my name, but good.

**Seat 2E** have you even touched yours? I can see it melting. Chloe, that's a waste of good ice cream. How dare you.

**Seat 2E** i demand you eat that ice cream.

**Seat 2E** it's chocolate-y goodness.

**Seat 2E** remember when you ate chocolate off my dick

"Oh my God!" Chloe exclaimed in a loud whisper and a couple of disgruntled passengers who were trying to sleep—like normal people—grunted, a couple of them shooting her annoyed looks before rolling over and she heard Oliver chuckle next to her. She was so embarrassed it was killing her, but a tiny little part of her was having trouble not laughing, too.

**Seat 2E** do you think the hotel will have chocolate sauce?

**Seat 2E** it says it's all inclusive

**Seat 2E** maybe that means there will be whipped cream, too.

**Seat 2E** which reminds me, since you lost our bet, I never got to lick whipped cream from your pussy

Chloe's eyes widened and her face flushed a deeper scarlet as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

**Seat 2D** Oliver stop it. What if the crew can read these?

**Seat 2E** don't care

**Seat 2E** So have you thought about it? Or would you rather try another topping? The flight attendant mentioned butterscotch. That sounds amazing. Or I've always wanted to try edible paint.

**Seat 2E** maybe we should just generally have food-themed sex as much as possible. I could tie you up with twizzlers

**Seat 2E** how do you feel about being tied up with twizzlers while riding my face?

**Seat 2E** or do you still prefer my necktie?

Chloe's mouth had fallen open, and she was uncomfortably aware of the ache between her thighs as several risqué images flooded her mind. She shoved back the partition and looked him directly in the eye.

"Oliver, shut up."

"Never."

"Mr. Queen, can I get this out of your way?" The First Class flight attendant had reappeared at Oliver's side, and was carrying a small tray of empty dessert dishes that she was collecting from people's seats. She spoke quietly so as not to wake the other passengers. Chloe scrambled to close out of the instant messenger on her screen and switch to a movie.

"Yes, thank you," Oliver said politely. "Actually…Kirsten—" he read the name off of her nametag, "I know this is terrible, but could I trouble you for another one? I seem to have a bit of a sweet-tooth tonight."

She looked mildly surprised but smiled, "We actually did have a couple left over, so certainly. Extra chocolate syrup, right?" she added.

Shit-eating didn't begin to cover the grin Oliver sent Chloe's way as he said, "Please."

"Are you finished as well, Ms. Sullivan?" the flight attendant continued, looking to Chloe.

"I—"

"You know, I distracted her, Kirsten, and she didn't get a chance to finish hers before it melted. Could we get two more?"

"No problem at all," Kirsten said pleasantly, disappearing with Chloe's melted ice cream before she could protest.

"I hate you," Chloe said darkly once she was out of earshot. Oliver just chuckled.

"That's not what you said last night," he winked.

"Ollie, doesn't it even bother you that your parents are _right in front of us?_"

He shrugged. "They're asleep."

"I swear you have no shame."

"None whatsoever."

"Here we are, extra chocolate syrup," Kirsten had once again snuck up on them. She handed Oliver an ice cream off the tray and placed it in front of him before passing one to Chloe. "I added a little extra to yours as well, Ms. Sullivan," she said genuinely.

"Perfect," Oliver said as Chloe turned vividly pink and hoped that the plane would crash before she reached Gotham.

In reality, by the time they reached Gotham, Chloe was the one shoving Oliver into the hotel room and stripping half his clothes off before they reached the bed.

* * *

><p>"Somebody had sex last night," Lois teased in Chloe's ear, handing her a glass of champagne.<p>

Chloe blushed. But then she examined Lois with a suspicious squint. "You did, too, didn't you?"

Lois wiggled her eyebrows. "Oh yeah."

Chloe laughed. The rehearsal dinner had been fun, but she swore Oliver was turning her into some kind of addict. Just like the night they'd gotten in from their flight and the following evening of the respective bachelor and bachelorette parties, Chloe had found it difficult to keep her hands off of Oliver by the end of the evening. They were _both_ finding it difficult to keep their hands off each other lately. She couldn't help that being with him just left her feeling good about herself. She felt loose and pleasant in the day time, and at night, she slept better than she had in her entire life. Once she'd gotten past some of her inhibitions with him, she had just felt so incredibly free. And she loved what a sense of humor he had about the whole thing. Teasing her on the plane about chocolate syrup…she shook her head.

"So how's the bride doing?" Lois asked, passing out mimosas to the other girls as stylists did their hair and makeup in the bride's chambers.

"She's just fine," Diana announced, entering the room gracefully in a white silk robe. Everybody started gushing as they looked up at her, unable to move without upsetting the hair and makeup crew.

Chloe, who had been early and was already finished, went over to hug her. "You look beautiful this evening, Diana," she informed her friend.

Diana beamed. "So do you, my friend."

"Chloe and Lois both had sex last night," Barbara piped up and everybody giggled.

"You weren't supposed to hear that!" Chloe laughed, embarrassed.

"They weren't the only ones," Dinah trilled suggestively and everybody laughed again.

"You're all ridiculous," Diana rolled her eyes.

"Oh please," Dinah scoffed. "Don't act like you and Bruce weren't all over each other after that dinner."

"Ugh, I wish!" Diana groaned. "He's being all traditional and romantic and crap. He's been hands-off for a week now."

"What!" Dinah and Lois shrieked indignantly.

Chloe snorted and Barbara's mouth dropped open. Courtney laughed. "Bruce? _Traditional?_"

Diana sighed. "It's sweet. It's just making me crazy."

"That's probably the point," Lois laughed. "I'm surprised he made it a whole week."

Diana smirked. "Well. He _wanted_ to wait the entire month. I had other plans."

They all laughed again and the hair team sighed with frustration as their subjects refused to hold still. Someone ushered Diana to a seat so she could begin to work with Diana's gleaming mass of shiny black hair.

Chloe watched as the girls continued to joke and laugh and Diana withdrew from the conversation, slowly sinking into her own reverie, eyes miles and miles away. At one point Diana blinked out of it for a moment and caught Chloe's eyes in the mirror. Realizing she'd been caught, she winked at Chloe, who gave an understanding nod.

She brought Diana a champagne glass and handed it to her. "Now that's the last one you get," she warned lightly. "We don't want you tripping down the aisle." More softly, so the other girls couldn't hear, "Penny for your thoughts."

Diana smiled and squeezed Chloe's hand. "I just can't believe this is happening. It's real, you know? Isn't it so difficult to believe that we've found that one person we're going to be with?"

Chloe found she didn't know what to say to that, but Diana didn't notice.

"I just can't believe it. I can't believe I'm marrying him. How in the world did I get here?"

Chloe smiled. "Not getting cold feet, are you?"

Diana laughed. "Will you quote _The Wedding Planner _if I am?"

"A hundred times if necessary."

They smiled and Diana just sighed again. "No, I'm not scared, I just…it's so surreal, you know? It's…I was in a lot of weddings growing up. Lots of women in our family. I was a bridesmaid in nearly all of my cousins' weddings. And I started to feel like it would just _never_ be me. I never really dated anyone seriously before Bruce. And my cousins loved to tease me about that 'always a bridesmaid, never a bride' thing."

"I can relate," Chloe said dryly.

"Yes, exactly!" Diana said, eyes shining. "And doesn't that just make it even more incredible? You go your whole life thinking 'That's never going to be me. I'll never meet a man that I could trust that implicitly, that I could be completely myself with like that,' and then one day he just walks into your life and you're not expecting it and at first you're thinking, 'Who is this arrogant idiot who thinks he can see right through me?' But then you start to realize just how _wonderful_ he is and slowly you can't imagine your life without him? I know you understand better than anyone else here, Chloe. You and I…we were the picky ones. The ones who waited but were never chosen because men found us intimidating or because they couldn't live up to our standards. And when we finally met the right ones…it was honestly the last people in the world we were expecting. I remember you looking at Oliver like you were going to murder him the first time you met him. I honestly thought we were going to have to protect him from you if he had showed up a second later for the Currys' wedding," Diana chuckled. "And just look how it turned out! He ended up being exactly what you needed. The yin to your yang. That's how it was for me and Bruce. I thought he was shallow and arrogant and he turned out to be the most profoundly decent man I've ever met. Oh God…I'm making speeches and I'm going to start crying."

Chloe laughed through some tears that were forming in her eyes. "You're allowed the speeches; it's your wedding day. But if you start crying and ruin the beautiful job they did on your eyeliner I'm going to smack you."

Diana laughed and squeezed her friend's hand again. "We are the luckiest girls in the world, aren't we? I can't wait to see you on your wedding day, Chloe. I can't wait for you to feel as happy as I do right now."

Chloe shifted uncomfortably but held Diana's hand fast. "Stop thinking about my happiness and think about your happiness, damn woman," she shook her head and Diana laughed quietly.

"What are you two whispering about?" Dinah demanded from across the room. "No secrets in the bride's chambers!"

"I'm the bride I can whisper with whomever I want!" Diana argued back saucily.

"Oh leave them alone!" Barbara chided. "They're having a chick flick moment, can't you tell?"

"Nobody asked you, kid," Lois sassed.

"I agree. Let them be alone with their tear-fest. I think weddings are happy occasions!" Courtney chimed in.

Diana chortled and Chloe shook her head. "Chloe, you'll protect me from all of these crazy females, won't you?"

"What are bridesmaids for?" Chloe laughed touching her friend's shoulder comfortingly. "Oh, Diana," she sighed. "I'm going to miss you." Diana was joining the married women club and leaving her behind now, too. Just like Dinah. Just like Katherine.

Diana raised an eyebrow. "Miss me?" she asked. "Just where am I going, huh?"

_God, what a stupid thing to say out loud,_ Chloe realized. "I meant while you're on your honeymoon. You guys always say you'll keep in touch and then none of you ever does," she teased, covering for herself.

Diana accepted the excuse easily enough, but she gave Chloe an odd, penetrating look just the same.

* * *

><p>"Is my tie straight? It seems crooked. It's definitely crooked. This is ridiculous," I know how to tie a tie." Bruce pulled off his bow tie for the fourth time and began re-doing it once more.<p>

Oliver rolled his eyes. "Dude. If you make me go get a clip-on, I swear—"

"Shut up. I'm shaking. My God, my hands are actually shaking."

"Oh for Chrissake," Oliver sighed, pushing himself out of his chair and going to help his friend straighten his tie. "Get yourself together, man."

Bruce smirked. "You say that now. Wait 'til it's your turn. I will be more than happy to bring you a clip-on when you can't see straigh,t either."

"Not having second thoughts, are you, dude?" Oliver asked. "Because I'm here to tell you that if Diana doesn't kill you…well, have you _met_ her mother?"

Bruce laughed and his tension eased a little. "Right. Better go through with it, I guess."

"That's the spirit," Oliver joked, giving Bruce's shoulders a bracing squeeze. "Now shut up, you're driving me crazy."

"Hey, we've got five minutes," Clark said, reappearing in their room. "How you feeling, man?"

"He's driving me nuts," Oliver answered for Bruce, taking a seat. "You're the Best Man here, Clark. Tell him to get his shit together."

"Okay, I've got this," Clark said. He walked over to Bruce and grabbed his shoulders, looking him square in the eyes. "As your best friend, I'm telling you: you are going to go out there and marry Diana because if you don't, _her_ best friend, _my _future wife, is going to kill me."

Bruce laughed. "Why would she kill you and not me?"

"Because," Clark said in dead seriousness, "she will have decided that as your best man, it was my responsibility to personally drag you down the aisle whether you like it or not."

Oliver and Bruce both laughed at that, Oliver shaking his head.

"Amigos!" Bart popped his head in the door, looking excited. "You best get your butts out here; they're nearly ready to start!"

"Where's Dick?" Bruce asked, looking around.

Bart snickered. "Making out with Barbara."

"Oh brother," Bruce rolled his eyes.

Oliver chuckled. "Well, my friend," he threw an arm around Bruce's shoulder. "I suggest we get a move on. Ready for the end?"

Bruce elbowed Oliver in the gut. "Is my tie actually straight this time?" he asked, glancing in the mirror.

Oliver groaned and Clark grinned. "It's straight. Nothing to worry about. Go marry her so we can party at the reception."

"Now you're talking!" Oliver said.

"I am telling you two, just wait until it's your turn. You're both going to fall apart and I'm not going to lift a finger to help either of you," Bruce informed his friends.

"Who, us?" Oliver and Clark looked at each other, amused. "I mean, have you _met_ Clark here? Steady as a rock. Nothing shakes this guy up."

"Except Lois," Bruce pointed out, smirking.

"True, true."

"Oh yeah," Bruce laughed, "like you're not going to be having a complete panic attack at your wedding, Queen. I've seen you with Chloe. You're probably going to have an actual heart-attack if she shows up to walk down the aisle. Just wait."

Oliver glared. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that I've know both you _and_ Chloe most of your lives. She's going to have a moment of complete and utter panic right before marrying you, and you're in love with her so you already know it. And you're going to spend the whole day in a sweat worried that she's going to chicken out on you, even though we _all _know you're so head over heals for each other it's disgusting."

Oliver's mouth had fallen open, but he was spared answering when Bart appeared a second time. "DUDES! WHAT DID I JUST SAY? Get your butts out here! And I need someone to help pry Dick and Barb apart." Bart vanished again and Clark, Oliver, and Bruce got serious.

"Okay, we're a go," Clark said.

"My God, this is happening. Oh my God, if she goes through with this, she's completely insane and I don't even care. Does that make me insane by proxy?" Bruce looked at Oliver wildly.

Oliver rubbed his face in his hand. "Clark, let's get him out to the church where he won't be allowed to talk anymore."

The trio made their way into the fellowship hall of the church and Lois made a beeline for Clark and Bruce, pecking Clark on the lips and Bruce on the cheek before steering them to their appropriate positions. She was clearly in full Maid of Honor mode as she disappeared to drag Dick and Barbara back to business.

Oliver scanned the room until he found Chloe leaning against a wall, bouquet of dark redpoinsettias in her hands. She looked like Christmas Eve in that backless red velvet dress, which he supposed had been Diana's idea, it being December 21st and all. Chloe had a distant look on her face, her thoughts clearly far, far away from him. He caught her eye and she gave him a small smile, mouthing the word, "Hi."

He walked over to her and ran a soothing hand over her shoulder. "How ya holdin' up there, Weepy?" he asked in a soft, teasing voice.

Chloe laughed sniffily, betraying herself as her eyes glistened in the lights and Oliver couldn't help smiling. That was his Ice Queen, all right. A total puddle. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her. She grinned through her tears, dabbing at her eyes. "God, I'm a mess."

"You seriously cannot handle weddings."

"I can't help it…everybody's growing up and leaving me. It makes me sad."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Who exactly is leaving you?"

She waved him off. "Oh, you wouldn't get it. It's a girl thing."

He cupped her face, unconvinced. "Chloe, just because people are getting married, does _not_ mean that they love you any less, or that they are leaving you."

Chloe sighed, not seeing a point in arguing with him but clearly not really believing him either, "You're right," she said to please him. "I'm being crazy."

He gave her a concerned look, but didn't press the subject, just gave her a swift kiss on the forehead as Lois reappeared and began lining up the boys and then the girls before giving the ushers the cue to open the doors.

* * *

><p>"Well, it certainly was a lovely wedding, wasn't it?" Laura sighed into her champagne glass, watching couples revolve on the dance floor. "A Christmas wedding. What a pretty thought."<p>

The reception hall was a deep pool of red poinsettias and crystal snowflakes, looking, like the wedding, as if it had fallen out of a Christmas card. Diana had made a beautiful bride, a veritable Snow Queen in her beautiful white gown with her fair skin and dark features. Bruce ha looked as if he could have fallen over from the touch of a feather when he set eyes on her across the church. They were a lucky pair. Oliver and his father nodded and agreed for the third time on this comment of Laura's before Robert looked around for something else to comment on. He frowned. "Isn't that Dent again? My, he's awfully persistent, isn't he?"

Oliver's head whipped up, foggy thoughts of champagne and wedding cake fading quickly from his mind when he spotted Harvey Dent talking to Chloe by the champagne fountain. He frowned. Again? He wished Dent would leave Chloe alone, every time he saw them together he felt a sudden urge to punch something.

Chloe was smiling and laughing, clearly in a much better mood than she had been during the wedding, when she'd barely managed to hold back her tears. He watched Dent reach out and brush Chloe's bare arm, leaning in to whisper something in her ear, and Oliver nearly shattered the glass in his hand.

When Chloe's face grew pink and she said something eagerly back, Oliver pushed his chair back and stood up.

"Oh, Oliver—" Laura said, about to stop him, but he was already halfway across the dance floor. She sighed, leaning back. "You know he gets that from you, don't you?" she said to her husband, who patted her hand.

"Just don't you go talking to any other handsome men," he said placatingly.

"But ugly men are acceptable?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay then," Laura looked amused, taking another sip of champagne. "As long as we're clear on the rules."

"Damn straight."

Across the room, Oliver reached Chloe and Harvey. "Dent. Good to see you again," he said, interrupting whatever joke Harvey had been telling. "How's the DA position treating you?"

"Oh, Oliver, hi. I was just telling Chloe here how I handled this one case. It was really quite unusual. The man was obsessed with _clocks_ of all things; I—"

"Fascinating, listen, I just came over because I realized I've been a horrible fiancé because I haven't danced with Chloe in at least ten full minutes. Chloe?" he said, sweeping her away before she could protest, and leaving Harvey standing alone with his brow raised.

"I don't like him," Oliver said, drawing Chloe into his arms for a slow waltz.

Chloe snorted. "You and Harvey are friends, remember?"

"Well maybe I just—" Oliver stopped, suddenly self-aware. He just _what_, exactly? He was jealous. He didn't like other men talking to Chloe? Looking at her like they wanted to undress her? He couldn't tell her that! She'd be furious. They weren't really engaged. Just because they were sleeping together…well, it was just _sex_ after all. Nothing more than that. When had he started thinking like he and Chloe were actually getting married?

"You just what?" Chloe asked, eyebrow raised.

"I just thought you looked bored and like you needed to be danced with," he turned her and brought her back into his arms.

"Uh huh," Chloe said disbelievingly. "Right. Bored."

"Maybe," Oliver teased, "I just think he's a creep for flirting with someone else's fiancée."

She smirked, rolling her eyes. "I'm not _actually_ your fiancée, though, am I?"

"Well _he_ doesn't know that. Jeez, Sullivan, we're going to have to work on your taste in men. I don't want you slumming it when this is over."

Chloe laughed and he smiled. Good. Just keep things humorous. That was the trick to friendship with Chloe Sullivan. She needed people to look after her, but she wanted to pretend that she didn't, that she was independent and didn't need anyone.

"What am I going to do with you?" she asked, smiling at him.

"Well hopefully you're going to take me home with you."

"I haven't decided yet. Maybe I want to go home with someone else."

Oliver raised an eyebrow.

"But on the other hand," she sighed, as though it were a tough decision, "who else could make me feel dirty just for eating an ice cream sundae?" she smirked.

"Good point," Oliver said, bumping his nose against hers. "Guess you'll have to stick with me until you find a suitable replacement."

"I'll go shopping in the morning. Maybe Santa will bring me a new boyfriend for Christmas."

"Now you're talking. Only the best."

"Only the best," Chloe agreed.

The flight home was considerably less eventful than the one to Gotham, as both Chloe and Oliver were so worn out they slept the entire time, not even staying awake for the in-flight meal, let alone dessert. Laura Queen smiled to herself early the next morning, when their limousine pulled into the Queen Manor drive around three in the morning, and her son pulled a sleeping Chloe out of the car, scooping her easily into his arms and carrying her inside.

"How come you don't carry me like that?" she teased her husband in a quiet whisper, watching the couple disappear into the house while Robert yawned tiredly. He looked at his wife mischievously before sweeping her into his arms.

"Because you never ask," he informed her, carrying her over the threshold of the house before setting her down again. He might have good intentions, but he wasn't quite as spry as his son, who was now halfway up the stairs with Chloe. His wife didn't mind, though. She leaned up and planted a solid kiss on his lips.

"I love you," she told him as he wrapped his arms around her.

"I know. I'm glad you're happy," he added, glancing at his son and Chloe again. "I like her, too."

Laura smiled, leaning into his arms. So many years together and he still knew right where her thoughts were. "Weddings really are such happy things, aren't they?"

He didn't reply, but kissed the top of her head.

Chloe and Oliver vanished down the hall to their bedroom, and Laura sighed. "We'd better get some sleep. The jetlag alone…and a party to finish preparing…."

"It will be wonderful," he assured.

"Hmm," she sighed happily. "Have you thought about the fact that this time next year…we might have a grandchild on the way?"

Robert squeezed his wife tightly. "Don't rush them."

"I'm not rushing anybody, I'm just looking forward to it.

"If you say so."

* * *

><p>The Queen Christmas Eve Party was generally considered the social event of the season. The entire population of Star City looked forward to it, whether they were attending or not. Laura Queen insisted on making it a charity event, each year's proceeds going toward the Angel Tree foundation, making sure that children in need woke up to happier Christmases the next morning. All around the room, people were posting pictures of the children they had sponsored as their way of accepting their invitation.<p>

Chloe was admiring the wall full of wishes come true when an older gentleman walked up beside her. She thought she recognized him as one of the members of Oliver's Board of Directors, but couldn't remember his name. "A lovely idea, isn't it?"

Chloe nodded. "They're lovely people, the Queens."

"The very best. I've known them for quite some time." He paused. "So have you and Oliver talked about how many, yet?"

She gave him a confused look. "How many…?"

"Children, of course!"

Chloe choked on her saliva.

"Oh, I'm sorry, my dear!" the gentleman, patted her on the back. "Didn't mean to be intrusive!" He looked genuinely concerned, and Chloe shook her head, still sputtering.

"N–no," she managed. "You just surprised me. We've…erm…talked about kids, of course," she vaguely recalled mentioning children somewhere in the midst of several shots of vodka and the two of them agreeing about it, months and months ago, "but I don't think it would be for sometime."

"Of course!" the old man seemed apologetic for having embarrassed her. "You have to forgive an old man, we can't help ourselves at times!"

"Can't help yourself what?" a third voice chimed in.

"Hal!" Chloe said delightedly, throwing her arms around the tall brunette's neck and hugging him tightly. "When did you get here?"

"Barely half an hour ago. Carol's dying to see you, by the way. Hi. Hal Jordan," he turned to the older gentleman, offering his hand, "United States Air Force."

"Theodore Guster, Queens Industries. It's a pleasure, Mr. Jordan. Merry Christmas," he said genially.

"Merry Christmas yourself. Now what exactly have you said to my girl here to have her turning redder than Mrs. Queen's decorations because I'm clearly going to have to file it away for future reference."

Guster chuckled. "Well, being a nosy bastard I asked how many children she was planning to have with her fiancé."

Hal threw his head back and gave a deep laugh, and Chloe couldn't help chuckling as well. "Oh God," he sighed mirthfully, wiping a tear from his eye. "Yeah, that'll do it. Sorry Mr. Guster, our girl's a somewhat private, delicate little flower."

"_Hal!"_ Chloe scoffed, elbowing him. "Hardly!"

"Theodore! Theodore, stop bothering these young people and come dance with your wife," a woman who could only be _Mrs. Guster_ appeared at that moment, coming to sweep Theodore away, her cheeks flushed with Christmas punch. "Excuse me, dears, I need my husband," the old woman excused herself and her spouse, hauling him away as he shrugged apologetically.

Hal grinned, watching them go. "Well, I liked them," he said boyishly, charmed.

Chloe hit him in the chest. "How come you didn't tell me you were going to make it, you great big idiot?"

He shrugged. "We didn't think we were _going_ to make it. Big snowstorm backed up a lot of the airports."

"Well I'm glad you're here, even if you are a complete idiot," Chloe said, hugging him again. "Where's your better half?"

"Where's your worse half?"

"I resent that," Oliver said, approaching from the left with two cups of Christmas punch in his hands. He handed one to Chloe who sipped it eagerly. "Hal!" he greeted, hugging his best friend happily. "Good to see you, man! I thought you were stuck at the airport!"

"Storm finally cleared up and we made it out just about two hours ago, drove here straight from the airport."

"Chloe! Oliver!"

"Carol!" Oliver and Chloe chimed in unison when Hal's fiancée appeared, looking exhausted but cheery.

"Good to see you, Carol," Oliver said kissing her on the cheek before Chloe hugged her.

"I'm so glad you guys made it in safely! We were worried!" Chloe gushed as she squeezed Carol tightly.

"Well, we couldn't possibly miss the Queen Christmas Party, could we?" Carol laughed, hugging Chloe right back. "Hal was about ready to fly us here himself."

"Right, I'm sure that would have been a great plan," Chloe rolled her eyes, releasing her friend.

Hal shrugged. "What's a little flurry? Honestly?"

Oliver chuckled and Carol and Chloe shared a look.

"So, are we gonna tell them?" Hal asked eagerly, looking at Carol.

"Tell us what?"

"Well now we _have_ to tell them don't we, you great lunkhead?"

"What's going on?"

Carol and Hal exchanged glances before Carol held up her hand, showing off a small sparkling wedding band. "We eloped!"

"What!" Chloe exclaimed, grabbing Carol's hand. "Oh my God!"

"We are officially hitched. By law!"

"Oh my God," Oliver stared.

"But wait! We just got an invitation to your engagement party!" Chloe said. "Oh my God, Carol, you got married and you didn't invite me!" she said, jumping up and down and failing to sound angry. She hugged Carol again. "What were you thinking, you nutcase?"

Carol shrugged helplessly. "We decided we didn't want to wait. But we're still having the engagement party so everyone can celebrate with us. We'll make the big announcement then, but we're keeping it a secret for now so you can't tell anyone!"

Chloe laughed. "You might want to hide your ring, then."

Carol chuckled, fingering it happily. "I know, but I couldn't resist. Hal and I decided on the way here that we wanted you both to be the first ones to know. But really, you've got to keep it under your hat until the party next month."

"Listen, if there's one thing Chloe and I are great with, it's secrets," Oliver said, deeply amused. "Congratulations, Hal," he said, shaking his best friend's hand in both of his. "Really, I couldn't be happier for you. This is incredible."

"Mum's the word," Chloe confirmed. "But you'd better hope I don't run into your father between now and then because I'm going to be too excited not to spill the beans."

Carol laughed. "I'll be sure to keep him far away from you, then."

"Dude," Oliver said, pleasantly clapping his friend on the back. "Her Dad's totally gonna murder you. Congratulations!"

Hal swallowed nervously, as though this idea were sinking in on him for the first time.

"Congratulations for what?" Robert Queen had worked his way to their part of the room. "Hal! Carol! You both made it! Where's Laura? She's been fretting about you both since yesterday," he glanced around the room for his wife.

"Hi, Robert," Hal said, shaking the older man's hand. "Great to see you. We just got here half an hour ago, drove straight here."

"Glad to hear it! Congratulations for what?" he looked at everyone expectantly. Chloe and Oliver looked to Hal and Carol.

"Hal just received a promotion within the Air Force, taking effect in January," Carol stepped in to everyone's aid.

"Well that's news indeed! Congratulations, young man," Robert shook Hal's hand, beaming like a proud father. "And perfect timing, if I understand correctly. Congratulations on your coming nuptials to this beautiful young lady as well." He grinned at Carol, who smiled back.

Oliver snuck a glance at Chloe and caught the forlorn little look in her eyes behind the cheerful smile. He sighed quietly and moved a step closer to her, grabbing her hand and squeezing it. _Stop that, Chloe_, he thought. _No one's leaving you._

* * *

><p>Later that night, around midnight, when all the guests had finally gone home, and Chloe had slipped off her shoes, rubbing her aching feet from the edge of the bed, Oliver slipped into the room with a bottle of Bailey's in his hand.<p>

"Merry Christmas," he said cheerfully, passing her a small liqueur glass and pecking her on the cheek.

She smiled gently up at him. "Merry Christmas, Oliver."

Oliver saw the dried tear stains on her face and his mood fell slightly. He sat down next to her and put an arm around her, squeezing her into his side. "And here I thought it was just weddings that made you weepy," he teased gently. "Apparently it's marriages altogether."

Chloe let out a small chuckle that sounded suspiciously like a hiccup or a sob. He fished in his suit pants and pulled out a handkerchief, handing it to her. She held it tightly in her hands, wringing it slightly and not bothering to dab at her eyes. "I just hate goodbyes," she said sadly.

"Hal and Carol are not going anywhere," Oliver said soothingly. "And neither are any of your other friends."

Chloe shook her head. "I don't see as much of Dinah or Katherine anymore. And it will be the same with Diana and Carol. And then Lois." Her lip trembled slightly before she swallowed and blinked it all back. "It just makes me a little sad how everything has to change, that's all."

"Chlo, it's their first year married. All married couples disappear from the public for a little while. They're still honeymooning. They'll come back to their friends and family soon enough."

"Because you're such an expert?"

He shrugged. "I'm Laura Queen's son. That makes me better than an expert. I was born wise."

Chloe snorted.

"Hey," he poked her in the side, making her giggle. "Wanna stay up for Santa?"

"What?" she asked, still chuckling, rubbing her side.

"Let's stay up for Santa," he said, uncapping the Bailey's and pouring a little into her glass and his. "I used to do it all the time when I was a kid."

"You're crazy."

"And that's exactly what makes it such a genius plan," he said, sipping his own Bailey's. "Only a madman could pull it off." He winked.

She sighed. "Only you."

"Exactly," he grinned. "It's why you like me in the first place, admit it," he pushed.

She shook her head, sipping the Bailey's he'd poured her. "Must be something like that."


	23. Chapter 22

—22—

It was getting too comfortable, Chloe realized.

It was Christmas morning, and she had woken in bed with Oliver, both of them nude, limbs intwined, bodies sore in the most luxurious way. When she'd woken up, she'd found herself compelled to plant a kiss on his shoulder. When he didn't wake, she'd began to work her way up his neck until she felt his arms tighten around her and a small groan of satisfaction escaped his lips right before she languidly kissed his lips good morning.

He'd rolled them over, running his hand along her thigh and wrapping her leg around his waist, all while she ran her hands down his back, each muscle wonderfully familiar.

"Merry Christmas," she'd whispered against his lips and he'd grinned.

"So much for staying up all night."

"You wore me out."

"We should work on your stamina."

She snorted. "As if you didn't fall asleep, too."

"True." He dragged his lips along her throat, breathing her in sleepily.

"We should go downstairs for breakfast soon. Won't your parents be expecting us?"

"They can wait. Your lips still taste like Bailey's," he said headily, kissing her more deeply.

Chloe sighed into his mouth, and her hands rose up from his back to his neck, holding him closer and it just suddenly hit her how incredibly comfortable she was. Too comfortable. Much too comfortable.

She was lying in bed naked with this man, post-coitus, and she was considering having morning sex with him like it was no big deal because they had done it before. But they weren't even together! They were pretending to be together! How far had things gone for the lie to become so fuzzy? She realized that sometimes she wasn't sure where the act left off and the reality began.

Oliver, who was far more in tune to her than he should be if they were really just fuck buddies, noticed her sudden tension and pulled away from the kiss. "Something wrong?"

"I…no. I just, um, realized I forgot to mail a Christmas card to someone," she lied. "But it's no big deal."

"Sounds like something you can easily deal with tomorrow," he said before grazing his teeth over her ear. "Or not at all."

She tried to relax; it was hard not to when he knew that trick of sucking on the spot just behind her ear. It always distracted her.

But then it occurred to her how incredibly intimate a detail that was and that it was exceptionally disturbing that he _knew_ that.

"Stop thinking about Christmas Cards."

"What? Oh, right. Sorry."

Oliver frowned at her a little, as if just starting to realize that something other than Christmas Cards might be bothering her, so she quickly redirected him. She tried to push him off but he just rolled them back over so she was straddling his waist.

"We really should go downstairs. The last thing I want is your parents to come looking for us."

Oliver wiggled his eyebrows."I think the noise would tip them off before they ever got to the door."

"UGH!" Chloe laughed, grabbing a pillow and hitting him in the face with it, his body shaking with laughter. He grabbed the pillow and pinned her beneath him again, bracing himself over her.

"You weren't embarrassed last night."

"Yes I was, but then you did that thing with your tongue," she whined.

Oliver gave her an amused look. "_Which_ thing?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. W—"

There was a knock on the door.

"Oliver? Are you two coming down or are you going to sleep all day?"

Chloe's face turned bright red and Oliver had to bury his face in the pillow next to her to stifle his laughter. "We–we're coming, Mother. Just getting some clothes on."

"Oh, just come down as you are. Your father and I are in our pajamas."

Chloe slapped Oliver's arm as he was overcome with silent laughter. "O–okay," he choked out. "Be right down."

They listened for the sound of her footsteps padding away before breaking into laughter.

* * *

><p>The moment of revelry was short-lived for Chloe. Soon after, she began slipping back into her worries. When had she become so complacent? How had she let Oliver into every nook and cranny of her life? She supposed, as she watched Laura and Robert unwrap one another's Christmas presents, that it was really only natural. The charade had gone on so long that they'd been forced to spend almost every waking moment of their lives together. Somewhere along the way the line between fiction and reality had blurred. When had she even stopped hating him, she wondered. She distinctly remembered thinking of Oliver Queen as the scum of the earth. And then slowly she'd stopped actively hating him and started feeling more neutral. Eventually they'd become friends and then…sex.<p>

_Sex makes everything complicated. What was I thinking? _Lois _and_ Dinah_ don't know as much about me as Oliver does at this point._

She shot an uncomfortable glance at Oliver, who raised his eyebrows questioningly, obviously having noticed that she seemed out of it.

And what was she doing here? She looked back to the Queens. What was she doing to these good people? Yes, she and Oliver had promised each other they'd find a way to end things amicably so they could still be friends, but would Robert and Laura ever really forgive her for jilting their son? She'd never intended to get close to his family, let alone introduce him to all of hers. She stared at the shining ring on her left hand; a Queen family heirloom. This had been meant to last one or two months and then go up in smoke to prove a point.

It was supposed to _end_.

And it was _going_ to end. It might be a few months off, but it was coming to a terminus. And would they stop having sex then, too? The thought made her whole body ache and that fact alone terrified her. She didn't want to miss or need him. She was setting herself up for trouble.

But could she end it? Could she really tell him that they had to stop having sex so she could get a grip on reality? The very idea was humiliating. And she could hardly admit to herself that she really, _really_ didn't want it to stop. She'd been practically glowing at work she felt so good about herself lately.

"And I have one more surprise, actually," Robert said, interrupting Chloe's reverie. "It's for you two, actually," he said, passing an envelope to Chloe and one to Oliver.

"Robert, what did you do?" Laura asked, looking amused.

"I don't have to tell you everything, in spite of what you think."

"What is it?" Oliver asked curiously, turning the envelope over before breaking the seal.

"Well go on. Open it!" Robert pressed Chloe, ignoring his son.

Biting her lip, Chloe broke the seal on her envelope and pulled out a couple of papers inside. There was a plane ticket to Grand Cayman and a print-out of a real estate listing.

Chloe looked up to see that Oliver was holding identical copies.

"For your honeymoon next summer," Robert said, beaming. "Turns out a friend of mine was trying to sell his vacation home, and he gave me a great deal on it. When I saw it, I knew it had your names written all over it. Consider it an early wedding present."

Chloe had never been so horrified in her life. But fortunately they mistook the tears welling up in her eyes for tears of joy. "This is really beautiful…and generous," she croaked out, a few tears leaking from her eyes and splattering on the plane ticket. She wiped them away quickly, shaking her head. "Really, it's too much…I can't…thank you."

She was the demon spawn of Satan and she was going to the deepest circle of Hell.

Oliver moved closer to her and planted a kiss on top of her hair, pulling her into a hug. "We look forward to it, Dad. Thank you," he shook his father's hand with his free one.

"Oh, Robert," Laura said, throwing her arms around her husband. "You romantic, you."

* * *

><p>One week later Oliver was convinced there was something up with Chloe. They were at a giant New Year's Eve party hosted by one of the ritziest clubs in Star City, and ever since Christmas morning, Chloe had been acting strangely. She suddenly seemed uncomfortable around him. Just slightly. He would put a hand on her waist and she would shrink away, but then seem to remind herself that it was just him and relax again.<p>

Part of him wondered, as he sipped on his whiskey manhattan, whether he had done something wrong. Had he gone too far in bed at some point? Or frightened her? _What if I did something that reminded her of one of her exes?_ he wondered with a nauseated feeling in the pit of his stomach. He watched her flirt idly with the bartender and replayed various scenes in his mind's eye, trying to think of a moment when he had pressed too much or pushed too hard.

It had started Christmas morning, definitely. Was she upset that he had pressured her into having sex in his parents' home? At the time, he hadn't thought it was a big deal, given that his parents' room was numerous thick walls away on an entirely separate wing of the house, but maybe she really hadn't been okay with it.

All he knew was that for the past six days he had found himself growing increasingly concerned about life post-Chloe. He knew their agreement stood until the summer, just in the nick of time to cancel the wedding day itself, but that didn't mean the physical relationship held to the same rules. That could end tomorrow, if Chloe asked. Oliver would respect her wishes on the subject. But the idea of losing what he had with her made his chest ache in a way that a suspicious part of him thought was completely unrelated to his libido.

The bartender finally pressed a bright orange cocktail into Chloe's hand and she moved away from the bar, scanning the room until her eyes settled on Oliver. Almost imperceptibly, she hesitated, and maybe no one else would have noticed it, but Oliver did. He watched her weave her way across the room until she reached him, smiling lightly.

"Some party, isn't it?"

"They'll be talking about this one for weeks," she mused, sipping her drink, eyes sparkling.

"Chloe…is everything okay with you?" Oliver finally asked.

Her brow raised. "Yes, why?"

"I just…" he frowned. "You seem really off. Are you sure?"

She quickly sipped her drink, and he couldn't help thinking she was delaying her answer. "Yes, of course."

"I don't…just…ever since Christmas, you've seemed a little distracted, that's all," he said brokenly, choosing his words carefully. "And listen, I just want to apologize if I pressured you into having sex Christmas Eve. I know you felt weird about it with my parents in the house."

Chloe placed a comforting hand on his arm, chuckling albeit ruefully. "Oliver, you didn't make me do anything I didn't want to do. And anyway, your parents were on basically a whole other wing of that mansion. It wasn't that big of a deal. Relax," she said, almost like she was telling herself the same thing. "We're good. There's nothing wrong."

Oliver wasn't entirely sure he believed that nothing was up, but the tightness in his chest ebbed a little bit. "Good," he said, pulling her in closer, glad when she didn't flinch away. "Because I expect you to finish that drink so we can dance soon." He winked at her.

There it was again, the slightest hint of hesitance in her eyes before she smiled. "Right. Gotta put on a good show, don't we?" she added.

Oliver's brow furrowed slightly. "Er…right. By the way, I'm a huge fan of whoever made whatever this thing is that you're wearing. I might have to send them a belated Christmas gift. Think they'd enjoy a trip to the Caymans?" he joked.

Chloe laughed, tipping her head back as she did so, and allowing him the opportunity to really admire the dress. Gleaming silk in a charcoal gray, it almost seemed liquid, sloping over the curves of her body in the most elegant way. One strap ran elegantly across her shoulder in an asymmetrical top, and to balance it out, on the opposite side, a seductive slit ran tantalizingly all the way up her leg, begging Oliver to slip a hand under it to caress the smooth skin of her thigh.

"Oliver, eyes on the prize, tiger," Chloe chided, noticing his heated stare and drawing his attention back upward.

"I thought they were," he teased.

She rolled her eyes, swallowing a little nervously. "How about that dance?" She tilted back the last of the martini and dragged him toward the center of the club.

Oliver supposed, looking back, it was the dance that did it. Maybe it was the music. Or the scent of her perfume. It might have been the jealous glances he was getting from nearly every man in the room, not to mention a few women. It could have been the dress. There was even a very good chance that it simply came down to the feel of her body pressed up against his, right there for everyone to see. Or really, maybe it was the fact that he'd spent a week obsessing over how things would end with Chloe.

Whatever it was, it finally sent the message home.

_He didn't want it to end._

The thought was consuming, ravenously devouring every atom of his existence. He finally knew that this whole thing with Chloe, this game, somewhere along the way, it had stopped being for show. And sex…_Oh for fuck's sake. Was it really _ever_ just sex?_ he asked himself. From day one it had been careful and deliberate, with excessive concern for her needs. He had barely given that much consideration to his past _girlfriends_, never mind a friend with benefits. Chloe had always been special because he knew her history and cared so much about her well-being. She had never been a quick screw just to sate a need, in spite of what he may have implied to her in the beginning.

He wasn't sure when it had happened…emotion was funny that way. It just crept up on him. Suddenly he realized how awful the idea of waking up without her was. How lonely was his life going to be next summer if all of this stopped? All he knew was he didn't want it to get that far.

When she stopped moving, he thought for a horrible moment that she must have read his thoughts, but she was looking into the distance. He followed her gaze and the direction of her smile and saw that the fireworks had begun. She led him toward the open-air balcony of the club so they could see the sky better, and he wrapped his arms tightly around her from behind to keep her from getting cold, but also just to hold her. He hadn't realized how perfectly she fit into him before. It was like they were puzzle pieces that someone had been trying to put together at the wrong angles. It had seemed like they didn't go together at first, but after just a couple more turns they'd found the right niche.

People started counting down and Chloe joined them. Before she could say "One," he covered her mouth with his.

_Chloe, when did I fall in love with you?_

He must have said more than he intended to with the kiss, because when he pulled away, Chloe's eyes were burning into him.

"Do you wanna go home?" he asked, and she nodded wordlessly. Something in his chest purred with contentment over the notion that she thought of his apartment as her home. His apartment. His bed. His body. Him.

_I definitely stand a chance.  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>No way in hell do I stand a chance.<em>

An internal war waged fiercely inside of Oliver all the way from the club to his apartment. It raged as he pressed her against the wall of the elevator and kissed her until she could hardly breathe. It stormed while he hiked her leg over his hip and rocked against her, making his desires quite clearly known to her. And it battled on as he carried her into his apartment and straight into the bedroom, kicking off his shoes and dropping her accessories along the way. A necklace, a couple of bobby pins, her clutch…they dripped away from her like raindrops until they reached the bed.

He stripped away the liquid gray dress in one easy motion and his chest roared possessively at the sight of her exquisite body, flushed and ready for him.

_I stand a chance because this is Chloe-fucking-Ann-Sullivan, and who else would she ever let see her like this? _Fair skin lit with only the moonlight streaming into the bedroom, the soft curves of her breasts enticed him. The slender hourglass dip of her waist and hips begged for the touch of his hands. The only things she still wore were a pair of crystal earrings, black lace panties, and one pair of strappy gray heels.

Chloe was watching him carefully, searching his face with what could only have been suspicion because something was definitely going on with him, but he didn't care. He pulled off his bow tie and shrugged out of his jacket before unbuttoning his shirt for her.

Most days, she barely gave him a chance to take his own clothes off, either doing it for him, or distracting him before he finished. But tonight she was still, her chest rising and falling with labored breaths as she watched him remove each piece of clothing until he was naked.

Gently, he pressed her back onto his bed where she propped herself up on her elbows to watch him, and he changed his mind again.

_I've got no shot. She's too good for me. Hell, I don't think _anyone_ is good enough for her._

He wrapped his hands over one of her thighs, locking eyes with her as he lifted it slightly, dragging his hands all the way along the curve of her thigh, the pulse beneath her knee, and the smooth arch of her calf until he reached her foot, where he pulled off the shoe. He did the same to her other leg, making sure his hand grazed her panties when he started at the top again. The second shoe found the floor.

With extreme pleasure, he hooked his fingers into her panties and dragged them down her body, slipping them over her ankles before tossing them carelessly aside, eyes on hers all the while.

His gaze must have been too intense because she looked nervous, almost as if they had never done this before, and really, Oliver supposed vaguely, they hadn't. They had had a lot of sex, sure, but they both knew, Oliver _hoped_ she knew, that this time was different.

He climbed over her on the bed, dragging his lips over her stomach and one of her breasts, up her throat until he found her lips, pressing her the rest of the way back onto the bed. Their hands met and he laced their fingers together momentarily, lifting hers up beside her head. He dipped his tongue in her mouth and languidly stroked hers, letting her know that this was what it was going to feel like tonight: slow, deliberate, overwhelming. He pulled back, and, pressing one knee between her thighs to spread them, his heart caught in his throat. Her hair splayed out, her eyes round and dark as she looked up at him, she was totally vulnerable to his every whim. Gazing at her, he was overcome with an urge to tell her he loved her and had to bite it back. Instead he ran his hands up her hips to her tiny waist, struck by how small she was, his thumbs able to meet easily across her stomach. She was starting to buck underneath him, anxious for him to stop taking so long and get to it.

He saw no need to rush.

He drew his hands up over her breasts and gently squeezed them, watching her mouth fall open and her head tip back in silent pleasure. He brushed his thumbs over her taut nipples and her back arched into his hands. _Yes, more_, it meant. _Touch me more. Give me more. I want you._

He flicked his thumbs across them again and she whimpered softly. He pinched them gently and she whined, hips bucking forward as well now. He leaned down and sucked one soft bud into his mouth, laving it with his tongue and holding her hips down with his hands so he could enjoy himself.

"_Oliver."_ It was half-whisper, half-moan and it was music to his ears. _That's right. Don't forget who's doing this. I'm the one who makes you feel this way._

Maybe he did have a chance.

He switched breasts and the rate of her breathing increased, one of her hands fisting in the bedspread beside her head, the other tangling in his hair. As he continued his attention to her breast, his hand slipped lower before glazing over her pussy. He dipped his fingers just between her folds and found her soaking wet. Releasing her breast he pressed himself up on his forearm, watching her face twist with need and pleasure as he stroked faint circles into her clit.

There had been times when he would do this to her for an hour, fingering her as she came multiple times onto his hand. He recalled the very first time they'd been together, when it has been his tongue bringing her to climax over and over. But tonight he wasn't interested in delaying his opportunity to be inside of her. And he knew from pressing his fingers deep inside of her that she was more than ready for him. How things had changed.

He withdrew his hand and she gasped faintly, eyes opening to look for him. When they locked, both he and Chloe found themselves momentarily unable to look away. Again, as he spread her thighs still further and settled between them, he had to swallow those three treacherous words.

_God, please let there be a moment when I can say them. Someday soon._

Chloe's eyes were dark with lust and her lips faintly swollen as her hand dropped from his hair and slid from his neck to his shoulder. She gripped his arm tightly when he pressed the long curve of his cock against her slick pussy, rubbing against her folds for a moment and wetting himself with her juices. Her hips bucked and she whimpered quietly, her voice full of need.

Lining himself up with her entrance, he also lowered himself along her body, the pert peaks of her breasts brushing erratically against his chest. He saw her breath hitch anxiously in her chest while he gently gripped her thigh and buried himself inside of her.

He held still and they both forgot how to breathe correctly. Oliver because he couldn't seem to open his lungs to suck in any air, Chloe because she seemed to be caught somewhere between a short series of sobs and a gasp. Pushing some hair out of her face, he leaned in to kiss her just as he pulled back and thrust into her again.

Her cry filled his lungs with air and he gently coaxed her to breathe again, lips warm and gentle against hers, as steady and painstaking as his movements in and out of her. She bucked her hips again and urged him on; her legs curled around his, one rising all the way up to hook around his back, changing his angle and attempting to cajole him. But Oliver would not be rushed. Their kiss broke and she keened, pressing her head back into the bed, eyes shut tight in fear. Fear of intimacy, fear of going to slow, of getting too close.

Panting for breath as he continued to control himself, he ran a gentle hand over the side of her face, his thumb brushing over her lips and the smooth skin of her cheek. "Hey," he murmured. "It's just me, remember? It's okay." It was a promise. He pressed into her again and she sucked in a breath. He pulled back and whispered her name. He waited until she opened her eyes and her chest unclenched. He waited until she looked at him. He brushed his nose against hers, a faint smile forming on her lips in response. He waited until she nodded. He waited until she was okay before entering her again.

Her hands rose and buried in his hair, something she knew drove him wild, and she tugged his head down. "What," she gasped, "has gotten into you?"

Heart stammering, he slipped a hand between them and began rubbing her clit, causing her head to drop back again, her fingers to tighten painfully in his hair while suddenly her body began climbing higher and higher, her back bending into him.

Still determined, he kept that same pace, hard and slow and relentless, pounding deep inside of her so that it rocked her to her very core. He knew the exact moment that she hit her climax, her body quaking and her voice cracking with dry sobs. Finally he had to pull out to get hold of himself, to stop himself before he came.

He wasn't ready to end this yet.

He didn't wait for her to realize that he hadn't come yet, but tenderly massaged her breast and ribs and stomach, hands running soothingly over her before reaching her hips. She was still coming back to earth when he gently coaxed her to roll over, pulling her back onto her hands and knees.

One hand grabbed her hip and the other slid up her chest to the very base of her throat, gently bracing her, his forearm pressed along her body. He leaned over and kissed her back before entering her this time, and she cried out at a new pitch, rocking her hips back to meet him. He leaned over her, closing most of the distance between them as he drove his cock in and out of her, a thin sheen of sweat breaking out over their bodies.

Everything about her felt good. She was a perfect fucking fit and he didn't know how it had taken him so long to realize it.

He knew it was better for her like this, for a moment, to break up the intimacy of eye contact and kisses and their bodies pressed tightly against one another, but he refused to let her think this was just him fucking her. He trailed his hand delicately over her thigh, running it lower to stroke her clit again before he let his hands glide to her breasts, gently pinching her nipples so that she groaned and his name tumbled from her lips. He flicked his thumbs over her breasts and buried his shaft inside of her, and God help him, he dropped his head as he moaned her name. He felt the moment she curved her back more dramatically and ground her hips more determinedly against him. This time instead of a sudden and sharp rush, her climax was slow and dull, a drawn out aching building stronger and stronger until her body was convulsing and his hands were the only things preventing her from collapsing forward.

"Oliver!" she wrenched out. "For the love of—" she cut off as she screamed, his fingers pinching her breasts again and sending a shock through her already tightly coiled body, causing her to clench her walls around him.

This time Oliver couldn't help but come, spilling inside of her as he lost control, his breathing labored and his body shaking, eyes falling shut as he saw stars.

Chloe finally fell forward, partly, he realized, because his grip on her had loosened, and she rolled over beneath him, her chest heaving with exhaustion.

But Oliver still wasn't done.

She didn't realize it at first, thought he was tossing the decorative pillows aside and pulling back the sheets so they could curl up under them like usual, but instead when he tugged her forward, he pulled her not into his side but over him, grabbing her thighs so she straddled him and positioning her over his mouth. She barely had the foresight to grab the headboard before she felt his tongue plunge inside of her and her head tipped back in a scream. She tried to resist but couldn't help grinding down against him. His hands gripped tightly on her thighs to keep her in check as his tongue raked over her, lapping at her mercilessly. Then he sucked on one of her pussy lips and she practically sobbed, her knuckles growing white as she gripped tighter on the headboard. He rolled her flesh against his tongue before switching sides, his lips soft and warm on her hot folds. He licked her again before changing the angle of his mouth slightly and licking her clit. She screamed his name, and he knew he was getting her close again. The sound of her cries had him starting to get hard again. He flicked his tongue across her clit in deft strokes, his fingers gripping her tighter the more she lost control. Finally he closed his lips over that little bud and sucked on it, sending her crashing down from the the cliff on which she'd been so precariously perched. He licked her again, tenderly, gently, cradling her way back to earth as she whimpered desperately. Slowly, he guided her way back down his body, lowering her until she was level with him, eyes desperately searching his to find out what was going on in his head, but quickly distracted when he kissed her and she could taste herself on his tongue and lips. She groaned when her hips rocked back and she felt his newly hardened erection rub against her.

"Oliver," she murmured.

"We can stop," he said gently. It was almost a lie, but the truth was, any time she said the word, no matter how much he didn't want to, he would end it for her.

And he wasn't just thinking about sex.

But Chloe vaguely shook her head, barely even coherent, her whole body soft and light with pleasure. She let him guide her hips back and slowly lowered herself onto him, sucking in a ragged breath as her faintly aching body protested. She tried to sit back, but Oliver pulled her forward, bringing them so close together he could lean up and kiss her if he chose to.

Then, with that same deliberate slowness he guided her up before bringing his hips up to meet her. Chloe might have wanted to quicken the pace, to battle with him, but she was already too spent and as much as the intimacy of what he was doing made her nervous, he made slow and drawn-out feel way too good to even consider stopping him.

Over and over again she pressed down on him and he rose up to meet her, and her clit rubbed against him and he grunted with pleasure from being so completely sheathed inside of her. Without any strength left to hold herself up, she buried her face in his neck and continued grinding down on him, no energy left with which to moan, but instead reduced to silent gasps of satisfaction.

This time they came together, both of them finding their way to the edge of a cliff, grabbing hold of one another, and finally hurling themselves over the edge, clinging to one another for dear life as their bodies went tumbling through the air.

Chloe collapsed against Oliver's chest, her face still buried in his neck, but her eyes wide with fear. _What have we done?_ she wondered. _What have _I_ done?_

Similarly, Oliver's eyes were open as well, staring at the ceiling as he bridled his emotions, arms wrapping tightly around her, to keep her from getting any ideas about pulling away. But rather than worrying about what they had done, Oliver was worrying about what they were going to do, and whether she was ever going to realize that she was in love with him, too.


	24. Chapter 23

**Well, if you follow my Twitter, then you know that I said it would be a miracle if I got this chapter written in time. Lo, miracles really _do_ happen. Who knew? And this one's a doozy, so I hope some of you have booze handy, or security blankets, or ice cream…or whatever does it for you, I guess. ;)**

**Also, quick shameless plug, I transitioned my old blog "Cakes & Ale" to a video blog this month. There are two episodes up on YouTube. I am about to post a link to the channel on my profile page here. I would be delighted if you had a couple of minutes to go check it out and leave me some comments/questions for the next one.**

**That's all. Hope it's been a good month for everyone! Ta, darlings!**

—23—

Chloe shifted in her seat and moaned. She'd been trying to concentrate on coming up with a title for the spread in front of her, but, dropping all pretense, she buried her face in her arms on the desk. Her body was humming and her thighs were aching with reminder of the previous night with Oliver. All morning long, memories had been flooding her mind, coloring her cheeks and making it impossible to concentrate.

The intercom sounded and Mia's voice filled her office. "Miss Sullivan…" she asked hesitantly, watching Chloe through the glass wall of the office, "…more coffee?"

It would be her fourth cup since arriving at work 2 hours earlier. Chloe sighed and gave her a thumbs up. Bless Mia for coming in on New Year's Day. It had been optional, and she was getting double-time for it, but she and Edward had been some of the few.

"I don't get it," Edward said when he appeared with the requested coffee moments later and placed it in her grateful hands. "Why come in if you're hungover?" he asked, assuming she'd gotten drunk ringing in the new year.

"I'm not hungover," she grumbled.

"Right," he said disbelievingly. "Then what's the matter?"

_I'm hiding from my fiancé._ She cringed. _**Fake **__fiancé. I'm hiding from my _fake_ fiancé, _she corrected her thoughts. Ignoring her nosy executive assistant, she opened her e-mail. There was a letter of resignation from Louise which Chloe had been expecting. Louise had thought Chloe didn't know about the job offer from one of _Whistle_'s competitors, but Chloe had known for some time.

Unphased, she took another swig of coffee before tapping the intercom. "Mia," I'm promoting you," she said calmly." There was a series of thuds on the other side of the glass when Mia accidentally dropped several pairs of shoes.

Edward, who had known this was coming as well, chuckled but then raised an eyebrow at Chloe. He leaned over her shoulder to view the spread giving her so much trouble. "Keep it simple, Stupid."

Chloe sputtered. "I _beg_ your pardon?" she looked at him, shocked.

"The title. K.I.S.S. _Keep It Simple, Stupid._ The article is about how the most successful people are the ones who know how to prioritize, and then the things the interviewees use to help them stay organized and focused on their goals, from tablets to moleskin notebooks. It's sexy, gets straight to the point…I think it works."

Chloe raised a thoughtful eyebrow. "Not to mention we could place the QI tablet ad on the accompanying page. Their new campaign slogan is Simple Finesse. If that doesn't sell the Quip I don't know what would." She looked at Edward wearily. "Sometimes I think we could just slap a blonde wig on you and you'd do a better job of being me than I do."

"I think there might be a few other differences. But hey," he smiled, "there's a delivery downstairs that I think might cheer you up. Want me to have it sent up?"

Chloe frowned. "Who's it from?"

Edward grinned. "It's a surprise."

"It's not from Oliver, is it?"

"Nooooo," Edward smirked. "I can imagine he knows how you feel about surprise gifts by now."

Chloe forced a laugh. "Right, well now I'm curious. Sure, bring it up. Is it big?"

"Yeah, actually."

Chloe watched him go thoughtfully. He stopped outside to put a calming hand on Mia's shoulder. She still looked dazed and confused. Chloe smiled as Edward said something to her before sending her into Chloe's office.

Chloe discussed with Mia how she felt about taking over Louise's position while they waited on Edward. A few minutes later he and one of the designers appeared in the elevator, hauling a mannequin adorned with a beautiful white dress through the room and into Chloe's office. Gently, they set it down and began laying out the train and situating it.

Chloe stared at the gown in utmost horror. Her face drained completely of color. "What–" she swallowed. "What is that?"

Mia beamed. "It's a wedding dress, duh!" She caught herself and quickly added, "Miss Sullivan."

Chloe waved her off. "But…who's it for?" she asked carefully, dreading the answer.

Edward laughed as the designer handed him the envelope that had arrived with the dress. "Well, we were assuming, as the only current candidate in this room for a wedding gown, that it's for you." He passed the envelope to her. "But you tell us."

Chloe opened the ivory envelope and pulled out a familiar personalized stationery.

_My Dear Chloe:_

_My good friend, I know that you hadn't made up your mind about who to wear for your wedding, and you are by no means obligated, but I was inspired and couldn't resist. This is for you, a token of our friendship, to do with as you please. My spring line is not only at your disposal but dedicated to you. My sincerest congratulations on your coming nuptials._

_With Love,_

_Vera_

Chloe lifted her eyes slowly to the gown standing before her in the room as though it knew she had sinned and had come to collect her soul for Hell. Vera knew her well. Everything about it was her taste, in the edge-y, simplistic style that only Vera could create. Ivory rather than pure white, it had thin straps and a deep, sweetheart neckline, an A-line bodice that would be difficult to breathe in—the better to suffocate her with—and a sweeping skirt of only the finest silks and chiffons, spun from her web of lies. Chloe had a brief image of drowning in that skirt, of becoming tangled in it and tripping, coming crashing to the earth.

"Is she okay?" Mia's foggy voice seeped into her consciousness. "She looks like she might pass out."

"Miss Sullivan? Miss Sullivan, are you all right?"

Someone was rushing to her side, probably Edward, to make sure she didn't fall. She must truly look ill.

And then, as though the universe were telling her to fix this and fix it now, damn it, Oliver appeared.

"Hey, I hope I'm not interrupting anything. I came to take you for some lunch I—" he paused, seeing the state Chloe was in. She met his eyes, almost trembling with panic, then turned her face to the wedding dress. Oliver followed her gaze and saw the dress. His expression became blank, lips tightening.

"Everyone out," Chloe murmured.

"What?" Edward asked. "Miss Sullivan—"

"Everyone," she gasped, "everyone out. I need to talk to Oliver."

Everyone remained frozen until Chloe yelled.

"OUT! GET OUT! Take the dress away, please," she added desperately.

Oliver refused to move and refused to take his eyes off of Chloe as the the three people rushed to collect the dress, moving it quickly while trying not to damage it. Edward and Mia dared a few concerned looks in Chloe's direction, but said nothing. Chloe didn't see them, she was still staring at the dress like it might try to kill her.

The door clicked shut and they all disappeared from view, leaving Chloe and Oliver with silence ringing in their ears.

"Chloe–" he started, but Chloe interrupted.

"We've let this get too far," she said, still looking at the place where the dress had been.

"Chloe–"

"Oliver, no!" Chloe said, tears starting to burn in her eyes. She blinked them back furiously, not willing to get emotionally compromised. "What were we thinking? Look what's happening. That dress…it was a gift for me. Vera Wang just dedicated her Spring wedding line to me. To a _fake marriage_," she hissed, closing her eyes in horror.

Oliver swallowed tightly.

"Oliver," Chloe whispered his name, "we are in so deep I don't know how we'll ever surface from this. We've crossed so far over the line I can't even see it any more," she opened her eyes and looked at him pleadingly.

Oliver took a step toward her but she stepped back. He froze. "Chloe…I know that this got out of control. I know it did, but–"

"We have to end it. Today. Right now. Before we hurt anyone else."

Oliver looked like he'd been struck by an arrow. "Chloe, please, I–"

"Don't say it," she held up her hand, shaking her head. "I'm begging you, don't say it."

"Chloe, I'm in love with you."

"Oh, God, Oliver!" she said, and the tears began spilling forth uncontrollably. She clutched her head. "Oliver, you can't say that. You can't."

"I am, Chloe."

"No!" she snapped. "No! Don't you see? We can't even tell the difference between fiction and reality any more! That's how far this has spiraled out of our control Oliver. It started as a joke, don't you get it? We've been toying with people. With our friends and families and we ought to be hanged for it. I refuse…I will _not_ continue lying to everyone I care about."

Oliver shook his head, walking towards her, not caring when she shrank back. He placed his hands on her arms. "Chloe, tell me you don't feel something, too. I don't care if you're scared. I don't care if you want to change everything, if you want to come clean, I get it, I do. But don't tell me that you don't love me, too."

Tears streamed down her face as she looked up at him, "Oliver, I don't even know anymore. Everything we've got is based on lies. On the biggest deceit I ever thought possible. No," she shook her head, closing her eyes again. "Even _I_ didn't think this kind of charade was possible," she corrected herself. "Anything I feel for you…I don't even know if it's real or not."

"It _is_ real, Chloe," Oliver insisted, anything to convince her. "We've always been real with each other. From day one. I know you know that, Chloe. You know it in your heart."

Chloe just sobbed, pushing back from him. He stopped her and kissed her, hard. His lips welded to hers, desperate to prove that what was between them wasn't a lie. Chloe sobbed as she kissed him back for only a moment before pushing away, stepping further back from him. "Oliver, no."

Wounded, devastated, Oliver stepped back as well, trying to respect her need for space.

"Please," she whispered. "If you do care about me on any level, then let's finish this. It's wrong. This whole thing is wrong. Please," she looked at him fervently, "let this end."

Oliver looked torn, as though he wanted to sweep her into his arms and keep kissing her until she saw reason, as though he wanted to just hold her but didn't trust himself to ever let go. So, silently, he turned and left.

He found Edward on his way out, and told him simply, "She needs a friend. Go."

Edward instructed Mia to contact Lois Lane and Dinah Curry immediately, rushing to executive office where he found that Chloe had sunk to the floor, clutching her sides as she wept. "There, there," he wrapped his arms around her. "There, there, Chloe," he said, the first time Chloe ever remembered him using her given name, "it will work out all right."

Mia appeared moments later. "I didn't know what to tell them, I just said Chloe was sick and needed someone. Was that all right? Is she okay? What happened? Where did–" she stopped herself, about to ask where Oliver went but suddenly realizing why he must have left. "Should we try to get her home?" she asked quietly, as Edward rocked Chloe soothingly.

Edward shook his head. "She'd attract attention in this state. Chloe?" he asked gently. "Let's go to the kitchen. We'll get you something to drink that isn't caffeinated, and when you're a little more calm, we'll decide what you want to do, okay?"

Chloe nodded, barely able to control her sobbing as Edward and Mia helped her up.

* * *

><p>"<em>I don't understand,<em>" Lois said exhaustedly on the phone to Dinah. "_They were great at Thanksgiving. Really great._"

"And at Christmas," Dinah said, equally tired, eyes darting to the closed door of her spare room where Chloe lay asleep.

"_And you couldn't get her to tell you why it was over?_"

"Not a blessed word on the subject."

"_What about Oliver?_"

"A.C.'s been trying to get him on the phone but he won't pick up. He was furious at first until Chloe insisted that he hadn't done anything to hurt her. She just said it was her. She nearly fell into hysterics again so I told her she didn't have to talk about it, that she should get some sleep and then we'd have a girls' night just like old times with a bottle of wine and a movie."

Lois drummed her fingers on her desk at home, eyeing the engagement ring on her finger and wondering what they were going to do. "_What about her apartment?"_

"Do you know she's kept it all this time? I always just assumed she broke the lease when she moved in with Ollie, and that her stuff was in storage. I wonder if…" but Dinah paused, shaking her head. There was no point speculating. Of course Chloe—careful, cautious, practical Chloe—would have had her fears and doubts about getting engaged. She shouldn't be surprised if part of Chloe had always expected it to end.

Lois swore softly on the other end. "_What about the Luthor wedding? It's in a month._"

"I don't want to worry her about things like RSVPing right now."

"_You're right, you're right, I just can't…jeez. I just can't imagine what happened. I mean, did _you_ see this coming?"_

Dinah shook her head. "No. No, I didn't." She heard the sound of stirring in the next room. "I think she's up. Listen," she whispered, "I'll call you later and let you know if I learn anything, but I think for now we'd better give her some space. She'll talk when she's ready."

Thinking of how she would feel if it were her and Clark, Lois agreed readily. "_Absolutely. Take care of her. I wish I could get there, but I don't know when I'll be able to get out of Metropolis. I'll start hounding Perry for some family leave right away._"

"Okay, bye Lois. Take care, girl."

"_You, too. And take care of my baby cuz, okay?"_

"Of course," Dinah said kindly before hanging up.

She went to the kitchen and poured a couple of cups of tea, placing them on their saucers before heading to the guest room and knocking. "Chloe?" she called softly. "Are you up? I brought you some rose tea."

There were some shuffling noises before she heard a meek, "Yeah," through the door.

Dinah set one cup down to turn the handle on the door before pushing her way through, teacups in hand.

Chloe was sitting on the bed, still in her work clothes, though they looked strikingly disheveled. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying and her lips looked white and swollen. She was looking at the engagement ring on her finger. Dinah set her tea down on the dresser before handing Chloe hers. "Oh, sweetie," Dinah said, smoothing Chloe's messy hair and tucking it tenderly behind her ear. "Drink that, you'll feel better."

But Chloe couldn't stop looking at the ring. She took a shaky breath. "I have to give this back to Laura…to Mrs. Queen," she amended. "I have to give it back to her, but I…" her voice left her.

"Honey, don't you think you should wait a couple of days? Whatever this is, maybe you and Ollie just need to take a breath and—"

But Chloe was shaking her head. "No," she said firmly. "No, it's done. Thank God we hadn't sent out any invitations yet," she muttered.

Dinah's heart throbbed looking at her friend in this state. "Okay, sweetie. You know what? Do you want me to take care of it? I'll make sure it gets back to her."

Chloe looked at Dinah, full of gratitude. "Would you? I know it's cowardly, but after…after everything, I just can't face her."

Dinah nodded sympathetically, squeezing Chloe's hand tenderly. "Give it to me when you're ready."

Chloe looked at the beautiful ring on her finger, sparkling coldly at her, telling her that it had always known she wasn't worthy to wear it, and she took a deep breath. "I'm ready now," she said. With some effort, Chloe forced herself to slip the ring from her trembling hand, removing it for the first time since this whole mess had begun. She placed it in Dinah's palm and closed her fingers around it. "Thank you, Dinah," she breathed, wondering why she didn't feel more relieved now that it was off.

"Of course, honey," Dinah slipped the ring in her pocket. "Now have a sip of that tea before we toss it out in favor of some wine," she winked, earning a small laugh from Chloe. The sound brought them both relief.

* * *

><p>"You…did…WHAT?" Hal shouted over the webcam.<p>

"I…ah, jeez don't make me say it again, Hal," Oliver buried his face in his hands, feeling like the slime of the earth.

"I just…oh, my fucking God, what the fucking hell were you _thinking_ Oliver?" Hal demanded.

"We never thought it would get this out of control."

"Never…oh for…Ollie, the moment you two even came up with this idiotic plan it was out of control. And then you SLEPT WITH HER!" he shouted, pacing back and forth in his study at home, hands twitching like the only thing stopping him from strangling his oldest friend was literally the fact that they were in separate cities. "I mean, _fuck_, Ollie."

"You can't tell Carol about this."

"Tell C…are you kidding? Are you fucking with me, man? I wouldn't tell Carol about this if my life depended on it. _No one_ can know about this man, you hear me? _No one_ can know that you two have been pulling this shit on us. You will both be burned at the motherfucking stake."

Oliver groaned. "I know, Hal. I just…what do I do, man?"

"What do you…the hell do you mean, what do you do? You keep your dumb ass out of sight until this blows over and you pray to Christ that you will one day endeavor to deserve the people who love you. _What do you do_," he repeated with a scoff, shooting a disdainful look at the camera.

"Hal…it's not that. It's…" he mumbled something unintelligible.

"What?"

"I'm in love with her, Hal! I fell for her, damn it!"

Hal stared at him. Then he began to laugh, a deep, booming, callous laugh.

"It's not funny."

"Oh, I think it's fucking hysterical, Oliver. Let me get this straight: The two of you were so sick of everyone trying to hook you up, that you decided to tell everyone you were already together, just so you could break up and prove them all wrong. But then in the meantime you actually fell for her, ultimately proving everyone _right_ all along?"

Oliver glared and Hal laughed again.

"Oh man, you really fucked up."

Oliver closed his eyes. "I know."

"Well what are you gonna do?"

"I just asked you that."

"Oh, hell if I know. I would never do anything this stupid."

Oliver grimaced.

"Well listen, man. Like I said, I think you need to lay low and not draw attention to yourself because however it happened, that city is going to freaking crucify you."

"What, why?"

"Because all they're gonna see is that big bad wolf Oliver Queen broke the heart of Chloe Sullivan, Star City's Darling. You're going to be one of the most hated men alive."

Oliver groaned. Whatever way it spun, Hal was right. That was what people would read into it. But after all, he deserved it. This whole thing had been his idea. "What about Chloe?"

"If you love her, you'll figure it out. But based on what you told me, you'd better back off for a little while. She needs to get a grip. You both do. How do you know she's not right? You're both so caught up in your own lies you don't even know how to spell the _word_ 'truth' right now, never mind recognize it."

"I'm not delusional, Hal. I love her. And I think she loves me. We just got so screwed up." He shook his head, his whole body feeling heavy with misery.

"Well then, if that's true, you'll still love her in a couple of weeks when you've both cleared your heads a bit. Then start fighting for her."

"How?"

"Hell if I know. You're the hero of this picture, Ollie. You'll figure something out. But in the meantime you had better be so fucking sweet to that girl…" he shook his head. "All I'm saying is you do what she wants. When Curry comes to move her stuff out tomorrow, you help him out. You be humble and apologetic and you keep your fucking nose clean."

"I don't think I've ever heard you use the word 'fuck' so many times."

"I don't think I've ever heard of anything as fucking stupid as this before. I gotta go. I'm late for work." Hal ended the video call and Oliver closed the screen of his laptop.

"What am I gonna do?" he muttered for the hundredth time in the last couple of days, collapsing back in his chair.

* * *

><p>Six weeks later, Chloe smoothed her dress and tightened her grip on her clutch before stepping out of her car and walking toward the church. It had taken everything in her to come today. Lois had insisted a hundred times that Chloe should have brought a date, even Clark or Bart, so she wouldn't have to come alone, but it had felt wrong. So, when her invitation arrived in the mail at the beginning of January, for Chloe Sullivan and Guest, Chloe had RSVPd for one, and planned accordingly.<p>

"Chloe!" one of Chloe's old school friends waved at her in the parking lot. Chloe forced a smile and waved back but kept walking. She pulled her wrap around her against the cold until she reached the door, handing an usher her invitation as she walked inside.

The church was beautiful, all a whirl of lavender and white, everything grandeur and imposing. It spoke very much of Lex's taste, but had Lana's elegant style firmly implanted upon it.

Chloe heard another voice call her name and felt the grip on her heart loosen considerably when she saw Diana and Bruce waving at her.

"Chloe, how are you?" Diana asked meaningfully, squeezing Chloe's hands and kissing her cheek. "Happy Valentine's Day."

"I'm good, Diana," Chloe returned the squeeze, trying not to cringe at the reminder of the holiday. "Bruce, hi," she beamed, her demeanor too bright, to cheery, like she was trying too hard. She ordered herself to reign it in as she hugged Bruce. "I wasn't expecting you two to make it."

"We got home last week," Bruce explained. "And I really hated to miss Lex's third wedding, after all. This is a once in a lifetime event," he joked and Diana elbowed him.

Chloe allowed a small chuckled to escape but still scolded him as well. "_Bruce_."

"Behave," Diana instructed him, and Bruce smiled sheepishly, placing an arm around Diana's waist.

"Well, ladies," he said, offering Chloe an arm. "May I?"

Gratefully, Chloe took Bruce's arm and allowed him to lead her inside. They took their seats in a pew on the bride's side and Chloe asked about their honeymoon until the music began to play and the bridal party began to enter the church.

When Lana entered, Chloe caught her breath and something hit her. She'd forgotten to put tissues in her purse. Even now she could feel herself beginning to get choked up, and there was no Oliver there to offer his handkerchief. The thought alone sent tears rolling down her cheeks.

She dabbed at her eyes with her silk wrap and was dismayed when she saw mascara smudge the fabric. Closing her eyes and sighing, she wiped her eyes and ordered herself to get it together.

She watched as Lana Lang took Lex Luthor as her husband and wondered deep in her heart if the marriage would last. She'd always felt that Lana brought out the best in Lex, but having known Lex for such a long time, she never quite got the impression that he was a man who could be trusted. And without trust, without honesty, how could there be a relationship? How could there be anything at all?

There couldn't. She hoped Lana knew what she was doing.

At the reception, Chloe declined several offers to dance, flat out refused to get up for the bouquet toss, and finally excused herself to the bathroom. She locked herself in the stall and leaned against the door, overcome with emotion as she began to cry in ernest. She'd been doing so well for the last couple of weeks. She'd told herself she missed him less each day, but it wasn't true. She was just handling it better each day. She didn't know what she would do without her friends, without Dinah and Lois and Edward. Even Mia was a blessing every day at the office. Between her and Edward, Chloe barely heard mention of Oliver or the engagement. Edward had informed her that he would take care of all the wedding cancellations, that she needn't think about it. She didn't know how she would have done it herself.

Laura Queen had shown up at her office about a week after New Year's Day. Chloe had wanted to die as Laura showed her so much kindness.

"I don't know what happened, Chloe," she'd said, "but I'd like you to keep the ring. It's yours now, truly."

Chloe had started to decline, and Laura had pressed her.

"Please, I'm not trying to make you take my son back, but I want you to have it as a keepsake. I care about you, dear, and I hope that you'll always think of me as someone you can come to at anytime."

But Chloe had refused, and rather than distress her further, Laura had backed down, but they had parted on good terms.

She'd been cornered a number of times outside of her apartment by tabloid reporters trying to ask about her relationship with Oliver. Somehow, word had gotten out about the terminated engagement. They'd wanted to know who had broken up with whom, if Oliver had cheated, if she'd gotten cold feet, etc. One day she'd snapped and shouted that her life was her business, that Oliver had done nothing wrong but they'd chosen to go their separate ways. The following day, a body guard that she hadn't hired was waiting for her when she left the _Whistle_ building. When she demanded to know who had sent him, he had informed her that Oliver had. She'd tried to send the man home, but he had insisted, finally pointing out. "Listen, I just need to make sure that you get home without anyone bothering you for the next few days. I think the man's just trying to do you a kindness, ma'am." So Chloe had agreed.

She hadn't called Oliver, hadn't acknowledged it. She hadn't heard a word from him, in fact, since the day he walked out of her office after telling her he loved her. Deep in the darkest part of her, she couldn't help but wonder why. Was it because he was trying to respect her wishes, or now that it was over had he finally realized that he didn't love her, he'd just been as confused as she had.

The very idea was devastating, but either way it made no difference. It was over now. Everything was slowly going back to normal. …as normal as things could. She had two more weddings to endure this year, and one was Lois and Clark's. Then it would all be over. She sobbed shakily before taking a deep breath and exiting the stall. At the counter she wet a few paper towels with water and cleaned herself up before heading back into the reception. She needed to get used to this.

This was her life, after all. Her real life.


	25. Chapter 24

—24—

"Chocolate syrup?"

"What?" Chloe asked, shocked. "Oh…uh, no thanks, Lo."

Lois shrugged. "Suit yourself." She passed Chloe a bowl of plain vanilla ice cream, before squeezing half the bottle of chocolate syrup—or so it seemed to Chloe—onto her own bowl. Grabbing a couple of spoons, she joined Chloe on her way to the sofa. "So what do you think? What should we watch? God, I'm so glad you could come stay for the whole week, cuz. I have missed you like _hell._"

Chloe smiled. "Lo, of course I came to stay for the week. I've had this marked on my calendar since you set the date. Now what should we watch? This is the most important Sullivan-Lane movie night of all time. We need an appropriate film marathon."

The girls looked at each other and simultaneously agreed. "HANGOVER!"

"I've got the DVDs," Lois said, lunging from the sofa to her entertainment system. "God. I get married in seven days, Chloe," she paused. "I can't believe it. It feels like seven years."

"But it's gonna go by in seven minutes, just wait," Chloe said, heart aching. "Lo?"

"Mmhmm?" Lois asked, scanning her DVDs until she found _The Hangover_ parts I, II, and III.

"Will you promise me something?"

"What?" Lois asked, looking up and meeting Chloe's eyes.

"That we'll still do this when you're married."

"Do what?" Lois frowned.

"Movie night. Sullivan-Lane night." Chloe shrugged. "I don't want to lose this."

"Chlo," Lois frowned, dropping the DVD cases and coming to sit by her cousin, grabbing her hand and squeezing it. "Of course we'll still do this. Nothing's changing."

Chloe sighed, exhausted from being told that. "Of course it is, Lois! You're getting married! How can everything _not_ change?"

Lois's brow cinched. "Have things changed between you and Dinah? Or any of our other married friends?"

Chloe shrugged. "I just don't spend that much time with her one on one anymore. And it seems like we don't even see that much of each other to begin with."

"Cuz, you're a busy person. So's Dinah for that matter. I mean, she's filming right now. We've always known that if we wanted to spend time with each other, we were gonna have to _make _it. And we still will. Sullivan-Lane Movie Nights are sacred business. No way in hell am I letting them fall to the wayside." She made a scoffing noise but then saw the relieved tears forming in Chloe's eyes. "Aw, Chlo," she said, concerned and reaching forward to hug her. "What's up? Is this—" she hesitated. "Is this about Oliver?"

Chloe felt like she'd been doused in ice water. People had been avoiding saying his name around her, and frankly, she'd been grateful. For the past month it had been so much easier to try to get on with her life by pretending nothing had happened. Slowly, things were getting back to normal. Normal _before_ Oliver. "_No_," she insisted immediately. "It doesn't have anything to do with…anything. I just don't want to lose what we have."

"We won't," Lois promised. "This," she gestured between them, "is never gonna go away. We're way too awesome for that."

Chloe gave her a half-hearted smile, still feeling the impending loneliness of the rest of her life. But for once, she really believed someone who was telling her that nothing had to change.

"I'm not saying things won't change," Lois continued, not realizing what Chloe had _just_ been thinking. "I'm just saying that they're only going to get better."

Dropping her head to her cousin's shoulder and smiling, Chloe sighed. "Promise?"

"Promise."

Lois looked at the top of Chloe's head and chewed on her tongue anxiously. "Listen, while we're on the subject…I just wanted to check on how the whole 'Oliver' situation is going."

Chloe stiffened next to her. "What do you mean?"

"I just wanted to, uh, well, know if you'd spoken at all."

Sitting up again, Chloe's facial features were suddenly closed off. "No."

"Has he tried to talk to you at all? Or…you to him?"

She bit her lip. "I…yeah. He's called twice in the last two weeks, but I…missed the calls," her eyes darted away. It wasn't exactly a lie. She'd been at work both times he'd called, and she told herself she was too busy to pick up the call right then. She couldn't admit that she was just too scared to talk to him. And he hadn't left a message, so she'd just assumed it wasn't important. So no need to call him back.

"Oh." Lois seemed to be choosing her words carefully. No one had been able to get either Oliver or Chloe to explain what the breakup had been about, but to no one's surprise, the tabloids had been abuzz with wild theories, each one more scandalous than the last. If anything had ensured Chloe's silence on the matter, it was that. Lois felt for Chloe. Her own relationship with Clark was sometimes abused and violated by the media, but fortunately, Clark interacted so well with his fans that they rarely got overly invasive. Oliver and Chloe, though? They weren't celebrities like Clark. They were just a couple of people whose family's and social standings thrust them into the public eye constantly. So as much as Lois wanted to push Chloe to confide in her, she understood why Chloe was so closed off. "Well…mainly I just wanted to check in with you about how you're feeling about the wedding."

"What?"

"I just mean…you haven't seen each other, but…you're going to be, y'know, seeing a lot of each other this weekend. The rehearsal dinner, the wedding, the reception…" she trailed off, eyeing Chloe nervously.

"Oh." Chloe was in shock. Honestly, she'd forgotten all about it. She'd had so much else on her mind regarding Lois's wedding that she'd completely failed to realize she was going to have to see Oliver there.

"But don't worry," Lois rushed to reassure her, sensing the beginnings of a panic attack, "Bruce is the one walking you down the aisle. And it's a big wedding party, and all the family is there, and Lucy'll be happy to run interference for you—she's super-pissed at Oliver for you, by the way, and—"

"Why is she pissed?" Chloe interrupted sharply.

"Well…she just…you know how Lu gets, she actually _reads_ all those stupid articles—"

"It's all complete fiction, you know that, Lois," Chloe snapped.

"I know, I know!"

"Tell Lu to stop reading that bullshit."

"I will. I just mean she'd be more than happy to help you out for her own misguided reasons."

"I don't need Lu to run interference for me," Chloe said firmly, although she knew it was a lie. The last thing she wanted right now was to _see_ Oliver, let alone talk to him. She didn't think her heart could take it.

"Of course not," Lois agreed readily. "Just…let me know if you change your mind, okay?"

Calming herself down, Chloe sighed. "I will. But stop worrying about me and my failed relationships. I don't want you fussing about that this weekend, okay? I just want you to enjoy every second of this."

Lois grinned, grabbing her ice cream bowl and taking a bite before returning to the DVD player to finish setting it up. "I will. I'm especially looking forward to my bachelorette party, by the way." She wiggled her eyebrows. "Any hints about what we're doing?"

Chloe grinned back. "Just one. I got you a superhero cape to wear."

Lois pumped her fist. "Sweeeeet," she joked and they both laughed.

_Well_, Lois thought, _at least she's laughing again. From what Dinah's been telling me, that's a major improvement._

* * *

><p>"I just don't get it, Ollie," Mia sighed for the hundredth time, stealing a french fry from him. "What happened?"<p>

"She got spooked, Mia. That's the best I can explain it. And she's a tough woman to talk down from a cliff."

They were both in their gym clothes, sitting in the middle of his home gym, hot and sweaty from a sparring session and indulging in some well-earned fast food delivery for lunch. Oliver was relieve that Mia was finally talking to him again. She'd been furious with him for weeks. ("WHAT DID I TELL YOU, OLLIE? _Don't screw this up because if I have to pick sides, I will choose hers! _That is what I said on the very first day of this!")

Luckily for him, all the while that he had been insisting that the breakup had nothing to do with Chloe, Chloe had been insisting that it was a mutual split. So Mia had finally been forced to accept that he hadn't 'done anything wrong,' not that Oliver necessarily felt that that was true, but…he needed whatever allies he could get right now. Plus, he was desperate to hear from Mia how Chloe was doing. ("I mean, she's fine. She's still the most awesome boss ever—can't believe she promoted me—she's just really distracted. And I accidentally walked in on her crying the other day, which was super uncomfortable.")

"Well…_un_-spook her, Ollie. You know you're in love with her! How can you just let her get away like this?" Mia huffed, taking a frustrated bite of her burger.

He chuckled wearily. "It's more complicated than that, Mia."

"Not the way I see it. Dude loves chick; chick loves dude. Dude and chick get married and make cute little blonde babies and cause all their friends and family to gag because they're so disgusting together. End of story."

Oliver barked a laugh. "Yeah, well, that makes it sound pretty cut and dry, but the thing is, I don't know if Chloe's actually in love with me or not."

Mia choked on a fry. Coughing and sputtering, she beat a fist against her chest before gasping for air. She looked at him and smacked the back of his head. "Are you kidding? YOU MORON, OF COURSE SHE'S IN LOVE WITH YOU! JEEZ!"

"Ow! Stop yelling!"

"Are you serious? God, you're so useless. I mean, have you even _seen_ you two in a room together, Ollie? You're both so in love it's pathetic." She muttered something to herself about 'morons' and love being 'wasted on idiots.'

"Look…really, Mia, there's a lot that happened that you don't know about."

"Doesn't mean I don't know love when I see it. I mean, you should hear Edward talk about what she was like before she met you. She was SO happy when she was with you." She shook her head. "I just don't get it. Seriously, what _happened?"_

Oliver heaved a tired sigh and rubbed a hand across his face. He only wished he could explain. It was one thing to tell Hal. But he was not going to run around telling everyone what had really happened, especially to people Chloe interacted with on a daily basis, and especially without Chloe's permission. "It's a long story."

"Well what are you gonna do about it? Aren't you even _trying_ to win her back?"

"Right now I'd settle for getting her to _talk_ to me. She hasn't returned my last couple of calls."

Mia snorted. "Oh come _on._ You're Oliver-fucking-Queen. Go scale a wall, climb her balcony, ride in on a noble steed and sweep her off her feet, for God's sake!" She pushed herself up and stormed off to the kitchen to raid his fridge, and Oliver distinctly heard her say something under her breath about what a useless disappointment he was.

"Hey! I'm gonna see her at the wedding this week, okay! And I'm just trying to give her her space!" he called after her.

"She doesn't need space; she needs you to kiss her senseless, numbskull!"

Oliver rolled his eyes, though even he had to admit that perhaps the idea had some merit.

* * *

><p>It wasn't possible. It simply. Was not. Possible.<p>

Chloe still held Diana's cell phone in her hand, her face pale with horror as she did the math. Not only was it possible, it was happening.

"_I'm so sorry, Chloe. I can't believe this is happening. I even phoned the private airport—there's nothing anyone can do. I swear we'll be on the first flight out of here, whatever it takes, but…I just don't know what else I can do."_

Realizing there was nothing to be done for it, Chloe pulled herself together and took the reins. "I completely understand, Bruce. I know you'd be here already if you could. Don't worry, I'll explain it to Clark and Lois. They'll understand, too. We just want you to be safe. So don't do anything reckless, okay?"

"_I'll try_," Bruce said grimly, but she suspected he was still calculating how long it would be before the private airport would be willing to let him pilot his own plane out into the storm.

"Bruce," she said sternly. "Don't. Diana will never forgive you."

"_All right, all right, I promise. Bye, Chloe. Hopefully I'll see you soon," _Bruce consented before hanging up.

"He's going to do something stupid, isn't he?" Diana said as Chloe returned her cell phone to her.

"I warned him not to," Chloe sighed. She couldn't believe this. Of all the days for their to be a tornado warning in Gotham, grounding every flight out, it had to be the day of Lois and Clark's wedding. Diana had been able to fly out the day before, in time for the rehearsal dinner. But Bruce, like certain other business men that Chloe was trying very, very hard not to think about, had had to stay behind for work reasons, planning to fly out the day of the wedding. "I'm sure it will be fine. Hopefully it will blow through and Bruce can charter a flight out in time for the reception at least."

"But Chloe…he's the Best Man," Diana said. "What do we do?"

"Just…tell me something, and tell me the truth, Diana: Does he have the rings? I didn't have the stomach to ask him on the phone."

"No, he gave them to Richard a few days ago for safe keeping. I think he must have had a small inkling that this might happen, because he mentioned it to me. He really hated waiting until the last minute to fly in like this, and I just know he's kicking himself now," Diana groaned. "I should have put my foot down. I should have insisted he fly in with me yesterday."

"Bruce has a lot of demands for his attention," Chloe comforted. "This isn't his fault. Things happen. Right now, I need to talk to Clark."

"The men should all be here by now," Diana said, checking the time on her phone. I think they're changing down by the fellowship hall in one of the sunday school classrooms. Room 922," she said slowly, guessing.

"All right, I'll talk to Clark. And you go check on how Lois's hair is coming along."

"Do you want me to tell her about Bruce?"

Chloe bit her lip, hesitating. She wanted to say no, that Chloe would do it, but she figured the sooner Lois knew the facts, the better. "Yeah, you'd better go ahead. Just…brace yourself."

Diana smiled bracingly. "Oh, don't worry. I know Lois."

Chloe nodded. "All right. Synchronize your watches, ladies," Chloe joked weakly. "Back in fifteen minutes to change into our dresses. Then we get our hair done. Then helping Lois get into her dress in forty-five."

Both women looked at their phones and set a timer. "Got it," Diana said, snapping it shut and taking off down the hall toward the pastor's office, where Lois was having her hair put up.

Chloe watched her go, steeling herself and stalling for time. She was dreading telling Clark for all the obvious reasons, but she also knew what the most likely solution was to this scenario, and she knew what that meant for her.

_Stop being selfish,_ she told herself firmly. _This isn't about you._ So she trekked around the long hallway of the church until she found the classroom that had paper taped over the window, and "Groomsmen" scribbled onto a sign on the door.

Holding her breath, she knocked. It cracked open and her heart sunk when she saw Oliver blocking the doorway.

"Chloe," he said, caught off guard and opening the door a little further. Then, seeing her expression, "What's wrong?" He started to reach for her shoulder in concern, but she stepped back automatically, and his hand dropped awkwardly.

"I…um…" she swallowed, trying to remember what she was doing there. She hadn't seen Oliver since the day he walked out of her office…since the day she _sent_ him out of her office. "There's a tornado."

"What?" Oliver asked, confused. He checked over his shoulder to make sure everyone was dressed before opening the door the rest of the way for her.

"I need to talk to Clark," Chloe remembered, searching the room and finding him fumbling with his cufflinks.

Trying to ignore Oliver's eyes on her, Chloe approached her childhood friend, who appeared to be shaking with nervousness.

"Chloe!" he said, surprised. "What's up?"

Chloe allowed herself a moment to smile. He looked so handsome in his suit, and so happy. If she'd thought Lois was glowing that morning, it almost didn't compare to the brilliance radiating from Clark like the sun. A few tears formed in her eyes and she blinked them back. "Clark, I have bad news. The weather in Gotham's only gotten worse. There's a tornado now, and everything's been grounded for the indefinite future. Bruce isn't going to make it. He's so sorry. But he says that he gave Dick the rings, so when he gets here, I'll collect them from him. I'm going to call him in just a second," she assured him hurriedly.

Clark's face was crestfallen. "There's no way he'll be here on time?" he asked desperately, not wanting to get married without his best man. "We can delay the wedding for an hour or two if we need to."

Chloe shook her head sadly. "I'm so sorry, but the weather reports are saying the storm will last all night. There's no telling when he'll be able to get out of there, even on his own jet. And if we delay for too long, we might lose the reservations for the reception, which is the last thing we need."

Clark nodded, understanding. "I'll take care of it. Will you let me know when Dick gets here? We're going to have to move some things around. I'd like to ask him to stand up with me."

"Of course. I'm sure he'll be honored," she had already been anticipating this, knowing they would need to shift the wedding party and make sure there was still an even number. "I have to go see to Lois, but don't worry, Clark. Everything else will be fine. And," she flung her arms around him for a hug. "Congratulations, Clark. I'm really happy for you." She kissed him on the cheek.

"Thanks, Chlo," he said warmly, and she felt a tiny bit of the tension he was holding release as he hugged her back and planted a brotherly kiss on top of her head. "Go take care of my future wife, okay?" he instructed her as he released her.

"You got it," Chloe mock-saluted him, turning to go. She caught Oliver watching her, but he quickly looked away even as she diverted her eyes.

"Oliver," Clark said over her shoulder as she made her way to the door, accidentally bumping into Victor as he was pulling up weather reports and flight listings on his tablet. "Can I have a word?"

Cringing internally, Chloe fled the room, knowing exactly what Clark was going to do next.

She pulled out her phone and dialed Dick. He picked up before the first ring had finished. _"You heard," _he said grimly.

"Yeah," she affirmed.

"_Don't worry, I'm already on my way to the church and yes, I've got the rings."_

"Dick, if you weren't dating Babs, I would definitely kiss you."

He chuckled. _"Don't worry. I'm bringing my suit with me, and I'll just change when I get there. Anything else you guys need? Was there anything else Bruce was supposed to be in charge of?"_

"Not that I think you need to worry about, but listen: Clark wanted me to ask if you'd stand up for him. I think he's going to ask Oliver to stand in for Bruce, but we still need t—"

"_To balance out the wedding party," _Dick finished. _"Of course. I'd be honored."_

"I told him you would be. I'm calling one of my contacts from the bridal store next and we'll get you the appropriate tie and vest for your suit, and everything else will just have to do," she said, thinking ahead. "I don't suppose your suit is black, is it?" she asked hopefully.

"_You're in luck, Sullivan," _he said, laughing lightly. _"Listen, I'm pulling onto the interstate, so I gotta pay attention here, and I know you've got plenty on your plate, so I'm gonna go. But I'll be there in less than fifteen, and I'll give Bruce a call in a minute to make sure there's nothing else we need to cover, okay?"_

"Fantastic. Seriously, you're the best. Thanks, Dick."

They hung up, and Chloe immediately called the bridal shop and explained who she was and what the situation. Silently thanking her stars that her name carried so much weight in the fashion world, Chloe gratefully thanked them when they assured her they would do their best to send over the closest possible match for Bruce's suit and tie. She gave them Dick's measurements, again, silently thankful for her job and that she could give them such a close estimate to his sizes. With any luck, they would have the necessary pieces at the church within the next hour or two.

She reached the Bride's dressing room, and Lois immediately snapped her head up, much to the distress of the hairdresser working on Lois's up-do, who seemed to be having a rather difficult time of keeping Lois still.

"Chloe," Lois reached out her hand for her. "What's going on? Is Bruce really not going to make it?"

"Sorry, Lo, but no. It's okay, though," she added quickly. "We've already sorted it out. I just spoke to Dick, and he's going to stand in as a groomsman," Lois showed visible signs of relief, "and I think Clark's going to ask Oliver to be the Best Man now."

The two cousin's eyes met across the room, and Lois said flatly, "Girls, can I speak to Chloe for a minute?"

They all nodded and Chloe sent the hairdresser away for a moment, as well, much to the woman's frustration.

"Chloe," Lois said seriously when the door clicked shut. "Are you okay with this?"

Chloe kept her face closed. "With what?"

"I know it's gotta be hard seeing Ollie, and now you're going to be walking down the aisle together and…just…do you think you can handle it?"

"Lois, of course I can," Chloe lied. "It's your wedding. Don't worry about me."

Lois wasn't convinced. "I won't be happy if I think you're uncomfortable."

"Really, Lo," Chloe took her cousin's hand comfortingly. "I can deal. It's not my favorite idea, I'll admit, but I would never ask Clark to pick his _third_ choice for best man all because I have some silly feelings to deal with. Don't worry about me."

"If you're sure…."

"I am."

"Okay."

"Just promise me one thing?"

"What's that?" Lois asked.

"Don't you dare make that man shove a garter up my leg at the reception."

They both laughed, remembering how it had all started, and Lois grinned. "You got it."

Chloe hugged her briefly then pointed out, "Listen, I love you, but your hair looks ridiculous right now, we need to get that woman back in here to finish it."

* * *

><p>Chloe was shaking. Actually trembling. With every fiber in her being, she was avoiding making eye contact with him. She would not look at him. She would not. She wouldn't.<p>

She looked. His eyes met hers, burning into hers with questions that she decidedly did _not_ want to answer: Have you figured it out yet? Do you still think you don't have feelings for me or did you realize you do? Do you miss me? Can you sleep at night all alone? Because I can't.

She knew he wanted to say something, but she was grateful that they had to be quiet because the ceremony had begun. The small string orchestra had struck up the appropriate music and any minute…yes, it was happening. She wondered whether it were possible to be electrocuted from human touch because as scared as she was to take Oliver's encouragingly offered arm…she really thought she might. Terrified, she very gently rested the tips of her fingers in the crook of his elbow and wished she could die. Touching him was painful, like breaking her heart all over again.

_If he can break your heart,_ that little voice inside of her asked, _doesn't that mean it's real?_

Not necessarily, she reminded herself. Because how could they ever know if any of it was real? He might think he was in love with her now, but he could just as easily wake up one day and realize what a farce it all was. She wished he would stop looking at her. As she kept her eyes firmly focused on the alter, she was painfully aware of the fact that he was firmly looking directly at _her_, and not keeping his eyes ahead of him like he should.

_Oh, Oliver, why do this to us both? _she asked him silently. _It's awful enough walking down an aisle together like everyone expected us to in a couple of months._

In one horrible moment she saw it, saw what everyone else had been picturing: her and Oliver, looking into one another's eyes as they took their vows, professing their love before friends, family, and loved ones. And with a horrible ache in her very bones she realized how much she wanted it, but she couldn't tell if it was the scene that she wanted, or Oliver, or both. Did her happily ever after depend on Oliver being there, too? She didn't know how to tell.

There were mutters and whispers and knowing looks following them all the way down the aisle, and Chloe was starting to think that for all her well-meaning speeches to Lois, maybe she really couldn't do this. She was seized with a wild urge to turn around and run the other way.

Oliver obviously sensed her distress and finally took his eyes off of her. Instead, he placed his free hand over hers, pressing them in a comforting, and—for once in his life—non-flirtatious gesture that reminded her that at the end of the day, whatever had happened or perhaps _was_ happening between them, he cared about her, and wouldn't let her get hurt if he could help it.

After what felt like a lifetime, they finally made it to their appropriate places at the altar, and Oliver stepped away from Chloe. Not, of course, without pressing a handkerchief discreetly into her hand, which Chloe clung to gratefully. However much she hoped she wouldn't need it, that she wouldn't need _him_, she knew that Lois was her cousin, her best friend, and also reciting original vows to her long-time childhood best friend and that was going to be far more than Chloe and her unstable emotions could take.

Or so she thought. The most surprising thing about this wedding, Chloe realized, as Lois walked down the aisle and met Clark's eyes, was how utterly _happy_ it made Chloe. Where was the sadness? Where was the forlorn conviction that everything was changing and she she was going to be left all alone? She believed it was all still true, but she simply couldn't bring herself to be anything other than divinely happy for Lois and Clark, and when one, lone tear finally trickled down her cheek, it was a tear of joy as Clark and Lois kissed as man and wife. Heart full, Chloe found herself squeezing the handkerchief tightly in her hand, rather than using it to blot away the tear.

Unable to help it, she chanced a look at Oliver. Once again he was looking at her, and his eyes said it all: he still wanted her, he still thought he was in love with her, and given the chance, he wanted to marry her and kiss her like Clark was currently kissing Lois.

She didn't know how to explain to him that she still didn't know what to think, let alone what to believe.

* * *

><p>"Aren't you going to get up?" a voice said in her ear, and her toes curled while her stomach flipped.<p>

"Oh no," she laughed with false bravado. "I've learned my lesson."

The DJ was calling all the single women forward for the bouquet toss.

"Scared you'll end up engaged to someone else by this time next year?" Oliver teased softly.

Chloe looked at him. "You know that's not it."

"I'm sorry. I know…I didn't mean it that way. But I have to tell you, I think Lois is gunning for you. Sure you want to let her down by not even pretending to try?"

Chloe glanced at Lois, who was looking at her with raised eyebrows as the other women gathered in front of her.

"Damn it," Chloe muttered, pushing up from her chair and faking a smile for everyone.

Oliver watched her go, almost wishing she had stayed.

With a sudden feeling of de ja vu, Chloe flashed back to Dinah's wedding, where the decorations had been ivory and pale yellow instead of vibrant reds and blues, but she had been surrounded by a mob of women all vying for the bouquet. Last time, Chloe had 'caught' it by mistake when it fell at her feet and she meant to hand it to the girl in front of her, who touched it first. This time, with determined force, the bouquet came barreling toward her face, and she had to catch it to keep from being pummeled.

_Damn it,_ she thought vehemently even as she lifted it and pretended to be thrilled for Lois's sake.

In a bizarre twist of fate that no one, not even Lois or Dinah, could ever have planned, the garter hit Oliver in the forehead and fell into his hands.

_DAMN IT,_ Chloe thought.

"And would the young lady who caught the bouquet and the gentleman who caught the garter please come forward—" the DJ was saying as Lois raced across the room to try to stop this disaster-already-in-motion "we'd like to ask them to share a dance toge—" he cut off abruptly as Lois practically tackled him. "Or not!" he said quickly after Lois frantically whispered something into his ear, a little too obvious. "Actually let's have all the lovely young couples out there on the dance floor for this next number. Come on, folks, don't be shy! Find that special someone and pull them out here!"

But the damage was done. Even as a few couples and some well-meaning friends headed to the dance floor, dozens of eyes were still turned to both Chloe and Oliver. Chloe was red with embarrassment, and she knew exactly whose shiny black shoes had suddenly appeared in front of her as she refused to lift her eyes.

"Come on, Chloe," he said gently. "For old times' sake."

She looked up at him and her heart throbbed in her chest and she just didn't know what to say. "Ollie…please, I don't want to dance."

Searching her face, he dropped his offered hand. "Chlo—" he began, not sure what to say, "Please."

"Oliver, nothing's changed. We're still the same people who got in over our heads," she said in a hushed voice, not wanting to be overheard.

"I don't believe that," Oliver shook his head. "For one thing, if we were, then you'd be dancing with me just to make everyone else shut up," he gave her an almost pained smile. "I'm actually kind of proud of you, even if I am a little disappointed."

"Oliver, can you honestly tell me it wasn't all for show? Because it was. Everything we did started because we were putting on an act for everyone watching us. We just got so caught up in the lie."

He didn't seem to know how to answer that, so she pressed on.

"Please, Ollie, just go away."

Obviously miserable, Oliver started to walk away, but then stopped short. Turning back to her, he said, "You know what? I can tell you just that. It wasn't all for show. Because here's the thing, Chloe. Way back in the beginning, I might have kissed you at that engagement party because we were pretending to be something we weren't. But I never _pretended_ to enjoy it. And I don't think you did either. Nothing about that was fake," he said seriously in a low voice so none of the busy-bodies straining to overhear them could make out what he was saying. "And I was never pretending when we were alone, either. So unless you were, you should seriously think about that." He didn't say it unkindly, but the words still cut Chloe to the quick, and she was left with a devastating hollowness in her chest as Oliver walked away.

_God, I hate weddings,_ she thought wretchedly, slipping away to the bathroom to hide as soon as she was sure no one was watching her anymore.


	26. Chapter 25

**Author's Note: Just a few housekeeping items, folks.**

**First, no, you haven't got the date mixed up. This chapter is up two weeks early for two reasons: One, I finished the first draft of my novel last month! WOO! So, I had a bit more time on my hands to crank it out. Two, it seemed an appropriate celebratory matter after returning from the wedding of a close friend this weekend. I've got weddings on the brain, what can I say.**

**Next, I just have to say, the wedding scene in this chapter is awkwardly autobiographical. I swear to God I was the ONLY single person at that wedding! And that reading from Ecclesiastes ACTUALLY HAPPENED! (Just wait, you'll see what I'm talking about in a moment. You won't believe it.) Too bad there was no Oliver to come to my rescue, but my two groomsmen friends eventually swooped in and rescued me when they had an opportunity, so all was well. :)**

**Third, this story is winding up quickly. As in, I think there's only going to be one more chapter. Gasp. (I know. It has actually taken _years_ to post this. [Which also means at times it's horribly inconsistent. Sorry.] How sick is that? Thanks for sticking with me, you lovely faithful people.) Also, the final chapter of this story will in fact be my final time posting on FFN. Message me to find out where I've moved if you haven't already.**

**And finally, yes, that last chapter should be up on the 15th on schedule. Thanks for your patience, everyone! And thanks for taking a spare second to read this. :)**

**Love & Weddings,**

**Blue**

—25—

_Is it 5:00 yet?_ Chloe wondered wistfully. She glanced at the clock. 4:45 P.M. She had never seen it tick so slowly. She debated leaving early, but she never left work early unless it was an emergency. Like breaking off her fake-engagement for instance. She shook her head. She didn't want anyone to think that the 'break up' had affected her work. She would stay late like she always used to. It wasn't like there wasn't plenty she needed to get done.

…her heart just wasn't in it.

Edward appeared a moment later with a coffee mug in his hand and set it gently on her desk. She looked up and gave him a grateful smile. "What would I do without you?"

He shrugged lightly. "Crash and burn?"

She chuckled.

"So how are things?" he asked casually. A little too casually.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Fine," she lied.

He shook his head. "Ah, come on, Miss Sullivan. We both know you're barely keeping your head above water. What's the matter?"

She sighed. "I guess I miss Lois. She's on her honeymoon and I haven't heard a peep from her."

Edward quirked an eyebrow, obviously suspecting that Lois wasn't the only person that Chloe missed, but he bit his tongue on the matter. "Well why don't you pick up a phone? There's no law that says you can't call."

Chloe cringed internally. Any number of times a day she picked up the phone, wanting to call Oliver, to talk to him and hear his voice. But she never quite did it. She didn't know if it meant she was strong or weak. She supposed it all depended on your perspective. "I don't want to be an annoyance."

"I doubt anyone would be annoyed."

Would Oliver be upset if she called? He'd made it clear that he wanted her back in his life, insisted that their feelings for each other were real. How would he take it if she called just to talk, even though she hadn't figured out her own feelings yet? She had a feeling it would only hurt them both more. "Maybe."

"Really. You should call her?"

"Her?" Chloe blinked. "Oh! Right! Lois." She nodded absently. "Yeah, you're probably right. I'll see if I can get her on my commute home."

"Permission to speak freely?" Edward asked jokingly.

Chloe smirked. "Granted."

"Your cousin isn't the only person who'd be glad to hear from you."

Their eyes met momentarily, signaling to Edward that Chloe knew who he meant, but that she didn't feel like discussing it.

"Have you owned up to anyone yet?" he asked, rather than waiting for her to dismiss him.

She frowned. "Owned up to what?"

"Well I figured now that you'd separated you might have admitted to Mrs. Curry or Mrs. Kent that you faked the engagement."

Chloe dropped the coffee cup in surprise. "Ow!" she shouted, jumping out of the way just before any got on her dress. "Oh my God!" she looked at Edward with wide eyes, who just sighed and buzzed Mia for some paper towels.

"How long have you known?" Chloe hissed when he released the intercom button.

He shrugged, "Well, I had some suspicions in the beginning that something was weird about it—after all, I was the one who saw how much he aggravated you in the beginning when you were trying to control all the press about you two. You kept insisting you hated him and then all of a sudden you were engaged. Didn't really add up. But I figured it out after a couple of days."

"_Days?" _Chloe repeated incredulously.

He nodded easily as Mia appeared with some paper towels.

"Thanks, love," Edward said, taking them from her before she vanished again. He started mopping up the spill on Chloe's desk, as she appeared too stunned to move.

"_Days?" _Chloe said again, still unable to accept it.

"Around the time we were packing up for your trip to the Stone Wedding. And after that there were little things along the way that confirmed the suspicion, like the fact that your various versions of the engagement story never quite sounded the same. I just played along for your sake."

"Victor and Katherine's?" she asked, stunned. "That was barely a week after it started!"

He shrugged. "I'm around you all the time. I know when you're bullshitting people, and I know when you're upset about things."

All she could do was stare at him. "My God…and you didn't say anything?"

"Well," he said, tossing out the paper towels and finally taking a seat in the chair across from her desk, "I didn't really think it was any of my business. Besides, I had a feeling if you needed to tell someone, you would. Clearly I was wrong."

"I…I…"

"Can I ask what your plan was? And is?"

She swallowed, taking a moment before answering. "We…wanted to prove to everyone how wrong we were for each other, so they'd stop trying to push us together."

Edward couldn't help it, he laughed aloud, clutching his stomach. "Oh jeez," he wiped a tear from his eye. "That's exactly as misguided as I hoped it would be."

Chloe rolled her eyes. Well, at least someone was enjoying this.

"So tell me," he said gleefully, "how's that working out for you both? The whole 'proving you're wrong for one another' thing?"

"Edward, is there a point to this?"

"You tell me. Is there a point to you two breaking up with each other when you've obviously fallen for each other? However unconventionally?"

She arched a brow at him, silent.

He scoffed. "Please, I already told you, I know you pretty well. Just like you always knew when Darren and I were fighting or when things were going well. I mean, you might be my boss, but I also consider you a friend."

Her expression softened. "I consider you a good friend, too, Edward. And I have to admit, if you figured it out, I'm surprised no one else did."

He lifted a shoulder easily and dropped it. "Your family, your close friends…they're blinded by happiness for you. They all just wanted to believe it so they saw what they needed to see. If any of them had heard the way you first talked about him to me…they might have pieced it together, too." He chuckled nostalgically. "But really, from one friend to another…I don't know what you're trying to prove with this break up."

Chloe sighed, wishing she still had the cup of coffee to soothe her. "I don't know, Edward…it's not about proving something. It's just that our whole relationship was based in a lie. Even if it did become something real—which I'm still not entirely positive about—how can you base a relationship on that?"

Edward frowned, forming a T with his hands. "Time out. 'Still not positive?' What are you talking about?"

"I don't even know where the lies ended and the truth began!" Chloe insisted. "I have no idea—"

"You mean to tell me you think there's even the slightest chance you're not in love with him and vice versa?" he asked incredulously.

Her hesitation confirmed it.

"Oh my God," he rolled his eyes. "This is so much worse than I thought. Listen, Miss Sullivan…Chloe, I have been working with you for years, and you have never been as happy as you were for the past couple of months. _Never_. Can you honestly tell me that you've ever felt for anyone else the way you felt about him?"

Chloe's eyes were wide as she processed. She thought of Jimmy, of Davis, even of Harvey Dent. Not one of them came close. No one had ever made her feel the way Oliver had. "I…" she trailed off, not sure what to say.

"Exactly," he sighed, glad she wasn't denying it. "So what's holding you back?"

Ah yes, there was the rub. "I'll tell you exactly what's holding me back Edward: What we did…it was wrong. It was wrong on so many levels. You've already seen some of the consequences! That dress!" she groaned, remembering the wedding dress that had been haunting her for the last couple of months.

"Uh huh, uh huh…and what about the consequences if you let this continue? What about your own happiness? Seems to me that for someone who was so determined not to let everyone else tell her how to live, you're martyring yourself for no real reason."

She shook her head. "It's not just that…because to some extent I agree with you…trust me. It's been keeping me up at night. It's…I can't imagine how we can build anything real out of this. So what if we fell for each other? There's nothing healthy about it! I mean, for crying out loud! Imagine if we had kids! What would we tell them? Or would we keep lying to everyone we know for the rest of our lives?"

He gave her a pitying look. "I don't know. Honestly, I don't know how you should move forward from here. All I know is that I don't think you should do it apart." He smiled softly, pulling something out of the pocket of his suit coat. "I know this might seem like insensitive timing, but I still wanted to give you this." He placed a pale blue envelope in front of her.

"What's this?" she asked curiously, picking it up.

"An invitation. Darren and I are getting married in August. We're keeping it small, but I insisted we have at least a little celebration." He winked.

"Oh my God, _Edward!"_ she said, moving around the desk to embrace him as he rose from his chair to hug her back. "I'm _so_ happy for you two," she said, teary-eyed. "Congratulations."

He hugged her warmly and smiled. "Thanks, boss."

* * *

><p>"Oliver? Oliver! We need to talk!" Laura Queen announced, waltzing into the room uninvited.<p>

Oliver looked up from his office desk at Queen Industries to raise his eyebrows at his mother. "Mother? What are you doing here?"

"Oliver, this has gotten out of hand. I want you to do something."

"Wait, what?"

"Chloe, Oliver! What are you doing?" she demanded.

"Mother," Oliver said wearily, rubbing the crease from his forehead. "You've got to be more specific. What about Chloe? Did something happen?"

She planted her hands firmly on her hips. "Well that's exactly what I'd like to know, Ollie. It's been weeks. What _happened?_ All I get from you is ambiguous excuses and nonsense about her getting cold feet. I want to know why my son isn't with the woman he is so clearly in love with and who so clearly loves him back."

_Because there's nothing 'clear' about it,_ Oliver thought tartly.

"Son, would you—Laura?" Robert Queen looked up in surprise at finding his wife standing in the middle of the office. "When did you get here?"

"Robert, do something about your son!"

"I…do what?"

Oliver sighed.

"I don't know!" Laura threw her hands in the air in frustration. "But one of you had better do something or I'll disown you both!"

"Now just a minute—" Robert began.

"How can you just sit there and let him ruin his life?" she wanted to know. "You're enabling him!" she wagged an accusing finger at her husband.

"Darling, it's between the children. We can't control them."

"I'm not having it!" she insisted. Oliver realized that this might be the first time he'd ever seen his mother so…un-poised. Even during his more reckless days, she'd always handled even the worst of his indiscretions with an air of dignity. She was really unhinged about this. "I don't understand it, Robert! I want to know why I'm being denied grandchildren!" she said unreasonably.

"Well, Ollie," Robert said, folding his arms, "to be honest, I'd really like to hear what happened, too." He turned to look expectantly at his son, who was feeling a little bit ganged up on suddenly.

"Dad, there's nothing to explain. It just…fell apart."

"That's ridiculous!" Laura said. "I saw the two of you together _days_ before you suddenly called it off. You were content as clams. I've never seen two people so much in love!"

"Why don't you tell us what was said, Ollie," Robert said gently. "Maybe we can help piece together what happened. I'm sick of seeing you moping around the office, to tell the truth," he added.

Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose. "There's nothing to piece together."

"All I want to know is do you still love her?" Robert asked. Laura looked at her husband like he was out of his mind.

"Of course he loves her, Robert! Haven't you been paying attention? They're _perfect_ for each other!"

Robert waved a hand at her. "I want to hear him say it," he said, looking directly at Oliver, expectant.

"I…" Oliver bawked a little.

"Well?" Robert asked. "Do you?"

"Well…yes, if you must know. Of course I love her."

"Well then what's the problem? Whatever's upset her, you need to work it out and fix this."

"Finally!" Laura said. "Someone talking sense."

"It's not that simple!" Oliver protested.

"I'll tell you what's simple," Laura said. "You," she pointed a finger at her son, who leaned back nervously, "are not welcome at home until you can prove that you have exhausted every possible method of winning her back, understand?"

"Mother!"

"That's all I came to say. I will _not_ see you ruin your life so completely, Oliver. I won't have it," she announced before storming out.

The Queen men watched her disappearance with bemused expressions. Oliver whistled. "Wow. She's…wow, she's really upset," he commented.

Robert arched an eyebrow at his son. "She's not wrong, though. I hope you haven't thrown in the towel, Oliver," he said severely. "If you do love her, then do something about it. Because I'm not exactly interested in seeing you miserable for the rest of your life, either," he said grimly, angling a disappointed look at Oliver that made him shift in his seat uncomfortably. If only his parents really knew the whole story.

* * *

><p>"Bride's side or groom's side?"<p>

Chloe stared at the usher. Now that was a _fascinating _question. Whose side did you sit on at the wedding of your ex to your friend's cousin whom he left you for? "I…uh…" she glanced around, desperate for a friendly face, but she didn't recognize anyone. "Um…" _Ex or homewrecker? Ex or homewrecker? _ she debated mentally. She wondered which of them had wanted to invite her in the first place? Probably Kara because Chloe was so close to the Kent family.

"Bride's side," she said uncomfortably, and he led her to a seat halfway forward on the left side. It was an outdoor wedding and a beautiful, suneshine-y day in Kansas, too. Chloe wished she'd been able to fit a flask in her clutch. Vodka…vodka would be extremely helpful right now. _God, how is there not _one _person here that I recognize?_ Chloe wondered. She'd at least hoped to see one or two of their old Daily Planet friends, but she didn't see a single familiar face. And Lois had declined the invitation when she received it months ago, unable to take any more time away from work for the year. Though Chloe strongly suspected she simply hadn't wanted to go.

_Great_, Chloe thought, slowly noticing that not only did she not recognize anyone, she was also the only person here alone. As more and more people trickled in, she kept her eyes ahead, scanning out of her peripheral in hopes of that one other singleton who she might band together with at the reception for some company. But there was no one.

Finally, everyone was in their seats and the music struck up, and heads turned as the families were led in. There. At least she knew Mr. and Mrs. Kent, bless them. She tried to catch their eye, but they missed her as they walked past. Kara's bridesmaids, clad in bright magenta, began trickling down the aisle followed by the groomsmen. _See now, this is how it's done,_ Chloe thought sourly. _Coming down the aisle separately. None of this escort nonsense._ She thought of Lois's wedding and her ill-advised promenade with Oliver. She shook her head. Fate was against her. It was as simple as that. She smiled when she saw Clark walk down the aisle, looking sorely out of place in the magenta vest and tie that Kara had selected for the groomsmen. Chloe smiled wryly. She'd loved that color back in high school, but had some how lost her taste for it over the years. She'd really grown very fond of the idea of gold for her wedding colors. And maybe a soft peridot green to accent it.

She shook herself. What was she doing? Why was she thinking about 'her wedding' like it was even an event that might ever even happen? _Stop it, Chloe_, she told herself firmly, wishing again that she had access to hard liquor.

The ceremony began, and one of Kara's bridesmaids stepped forward to do a reading from Ecclesiastes.

"Two are better than one," she read, "because they have a good return for their labor. If either of them falls down, one can help the other up—"

Chloe's mouth fell open as she realized where this was going. Seriously?

"—But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up—"

_Seriously?_

"—Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone?—"

A high-pitched and indignant noise squeaked quietly out of Chloe's throat before she could stop it, and she quickly covered her mouth with her hand, hoping no one had heard.

"—Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken." The bridesmaid finished, and Chloe sat back in her seat, not sure when she had leaned forward in the first place. _Wow,_ she thought. _Wow, what a lovely, romantic verse to pick. Must be so great TO HAVE SOMEONE!_ she mentally exploded. _'Pity anyone who falls and has no one?_' _Unbelievable! Gee, we're getting married, why don't we just completely take a shot at anyone who came to support our union that isn't in a relationship? Yes, awesome._

She struggled to school her features, not wanting anyone to see her reaction.

Things became more predictable after that, including the fact that about halfway through the ceremony, Chloe found herself tearing up. _Fool_, she cursed herself, rummaging through her clutch and sniffing. _After all this time, you still haven't remembered to bring tissues. Don't you ever learn?_

Suddenly a hand from behind appeared and Chloe was surprised to see the person was offering her a clean white handkerchief. In surprised, she glanced over her shoulder at the little old man with white hair and mouthed "Thank you!" to him, accepting the handkerchief. He nodded, and Chloe turned back around, blotting the tears and running mascara beneath her eyes gently, but she found herself getting still more choked up, the kind gesture making her think of Oliver.

Her brow creased. As a matter of fact…she studied the handkerchief…this one matched the ones he used perfectly. It was the same kind of material.

She suddenly remembered the very first time she'd ever met Oliver, when he stuffed that first handkerchief in her hand, walking her down the aisle at Dinah and A.C.'s wedding, leaving it in her palm with a wink. How she had hated him! She gave a sputtering little chuckle of self-deprecation through her tears. Things had gotten so out of hand. She only wished there were an honest way to fix it all.

* * *

><p>The term 'wallflower' didn't even begin to cover Chloe's situation. Seated far in the back corner of the room at the reception, Chloe truly wanted to shoot herself. The only people she knew were the Kents, and they were sitting at the family table, Clark tied up in groomsman duties and taking care of his cousin.<p>

The dancing had begun and Chloe found herself vaguely wishing someone would ask her to dance, just so she didn't have to sit there looking so utterly pathetic at her ex-boyfriend's wedding. But no one did. She emptied the glass of wine she had lifted from the tray of a roaming waiter, and, looking at the glass, determined that she was really going to need something stronger.

She smoothed her dress—a forget-me-not blue jersey—and debated with herself. To get drunk or not to get drunk. On the one hand, getting drunk would probably draw more attention to her and make her look even more pitiful to all these strangers. On the other, this night would go by more quickly if she were drinking. And then she could leave as soon as possible.

She wandered over to the bar and looked squarely at the man setting out clean glasses. "Do you have any bourbon back there?"

He smiled, nodding.

"Great. On the rocks, please."

He lifted an eyebrow, a little surprised, but then shrugged, grabbing a bottle of amber liquid and pouring it over a glass of ice for her.

"Thanks," she said, lifting it to her lips and enjoying the burning sensation as she tilted her head back. It was at that moment, when she was least expecting it, that an all-too-familiar voice whispered in her ear.

"You should always wear that shade of blue, you know. You look stunning."

She gasped, almost not daring to believe it when she turned and saw Oliver standing before her. He was giving her a winning smile, but even she noticed the tiny bit of uncertainty in his eyes, as though he wasn't sure how she was going to react.

If she'd known he was planning to be there, she would have told him not to and suffered for it. As it was, upon seeing him, right at the moment when she was feeling most lonely and wretched, Chloe couldn't help it, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. "Ollie!" she murmured into his shoulder, heart flipping around erratically in her chest as she felt his arms band around her and squeeze her tightly. "What are you doing here?" she asked finally, leaning back to look up at him without letting go.

"I was on the guest list, remember?" he joked.

She shook her head, laughing. "Yes, well, technically the invitation was to _me_."

"And your guest," he reminded. "I thought you might not want to do this alone. I'm sorry I missed you during the service," he added. "Did you get my handkerchief?"

"That was _yours?_" she asked, not believing it. "Oh, I hate you," she sighed, completely unconvincing as she dropped her head back onto his shoulder, not wanting to meet his eyes at that moment.

Oliver sighed, too, resting his chin on top of her head. "I thought you were done lying, Sullivan," he reminded jokingly.

Chloe gave a weak laugh but didn't respond.

"So how about it? Do you want to get out of here? Or do you wanna stay and show off first?" he whispered so no one else would hear.

Finally letting go, Chloe picked up her drink again and raised her eyebrows at him, taking a sip. "What were you thinking?"

"Well," he said, removing the drink and leaving it at someone else's place setting, "I thought," he took her hand and pulled her toward the floor, "that we could dance. After all," he added discreetly, "Nothing says, 'I've moved on,' quite like dancing at your ex's wedding."

Chloe laughed, shaking her head as she allowed him to drag her away. She wanted to fight it, to discourage him, but it felt so good to see him, to feel her hand in his again. She was a strong woman, but even she had her limits. Oliver Queen was her weakness.

Oliver was relieved, to say the least. He'd been thinking of this wedding over and over again since seeing Chloe at the Kent wedding. All he'd been able to think about was that night he found Chloe with the broken wine bottle, so miserable at the thought of being alone.

And then damn his parents and Mia and everyone else who was bound and determined to make him feel guilty for leaving her alone. Like this had been his choice. He was just trying to respect her wishes. But he hadn't been able to stand the thought of her alone at this wedding. Ultimately, he'd decided damn it all to hell, he was going to be there for her whether she wanted him to be or not.

Seeing the smile on her face, however wary, he knew he'd made the right decision, so he did what any man in his position would do: pulled her into his arm for a dance, and did his best to keep making her laugh.

"So, what do you think, Chloe? Are the tabloids going to get wind of this and go hysterical trying to figure out what's going on between us?" he winked.

She gave a hesitant laugh, and he realized she'd already been thinking just that.

"Hey, this whole thing started because some so-called reporters wouldn't keep their noses out of our business," he said, spinning her around and wrapping her in his arms as they swayed to the music. "It's only fair that we get to mess with them as much as possible."

"So we're still putting on a show then?" Chloe sighed, but she didn't sound upset.

He shrugged a shoulder, turning her back to face him and plowing ahead. "No. I think we've just officially hit the ultimate level of not caring what anyone else thinks."

She narrowed her eyes at him shrewdly. "_You_ never cared what anyone thought. I was the one who flipped out about the photos from Dinah's wedding."

"Not entirely true. I never cared what the media thought. I cared plenty about what our friends and families thought. And you."

"Me what?"

"I cared what you thought."

She scoffed, laughing.

"It's true!" he protested. "I couldn't figure out why you hated me so easily." She laughed again. "I happen to be a very likeable person, Chloe," he informed her sternly, humor in his eyes. His heart skipped a beat when hers met his, and he would have given anything to know what she was thinking in that moment, but didn't dare ask.

"So you're sure we're not putting on a show this time?" she asked slyly.

"Showing off is not the same thing," Oliver said, matching her tone before dramatically dipping her. As he returned her to her feet, Chloe realized a lot of eyes were on them, including Jimmy and Kara's. She was about to remark on it when she turned to look at Oliver and found their faces very close together. She held her breath, wondering if he were thinking about kissing her, too. Their bodies remembered the feeling too well, even after months apart. But she wasn't sure she was ready for that. Her heart and her mind were on such completely different pages…although she started to suspect that they were catching up to one another.

Still…it wasn't the right moment to make up her mind, not when she was so emotionally vulnerable, so she stepped back slightly, and Oliver let her go. His eyes were still on her mouth but after a moment they drifted back up, and she knew that he'd felt whatever had just happened, too.

Before either of them could say anything, Jonathan Kent appeared, clapping Oliver and Chloe each on the shoulder. "Oliver!" he greeted jovially, shaking Oliver's hand. "It's good to see you again, son. Martha and I were just talking about you and Chloe the other day. It's nice to see you two together." He leaned over and kissed Chloe on the cheek, giving her a fatherly hug in greeting, which Chloe returned with a blush, watching helplessly when he winked at her afterward.

"We're, um…"

"Not together," Oliver came to her rescue, answering the question casually and without embarrassment. "Just in the same time and place." Chloe watched him in small amazement. He'd always been so good at handling things like this, not to mention coming to her rescue. She thought of the handkerchief tucked away in her purse with a rush of gratitude and was seized with a desire to take his hand in hers, but resisted, instead nodding her agreement to Mr. Kent, who looked unconvinced.

"Well," he said indulgently. "Either way, I hope we haven't seen the last of you, Oliver. Whatever comes next. And you, Chloe. Don't be a stranger, okay, sweetheart?" he asked her kindly, taking her hand in his rough and calloused one and squeezing it kindly.

"I won't," Chloe promised, thinking that maybe, after all this time, it was time she started making more regular visits to her home and family in Smallville.

"What do you say?" Oliver asked when Mr. Kent left them. "Do you think you've made a sufficient appearance?"

Chloe smiled. "You know, I think I have. There's just one thing before I leave."

"What's that?"

"Gotta say goodbye," she said, turning to face her past and walking directly toward it.

Oliver hung back, smiling at her as she greeted Jimmy and Kara with a completely genuine hug and smile, sincerely wishing them the best before taking her leave.

Watching Jimmy hug her back and kiss her on the cheek, thanking her for coming, Oliver decided maybe this Olsen guy wasn't so bad after all. He just didn't seem like the type who'd be able to keep up with Chloe. That was probably what had done them in in the end, really. Being with Chloe was like being tied to a comet. Not everyone was up for the ride.

Kara and Jimmy watched Chloe return to Oliver, and for a brief moment Jimmy and Oliver's eyes met across the dance floor, and a silent exchange passed between the two men, in which Oliver sensed Jimmy asking Oliver whether he knew what he was doing.

Oliver nodded almost undetectably. _Don't worry, man. I'm not giving her up without a fight this time._

Jimmy gave a soft smile of understanding, as if to give his approval. _Just as long as you know you're not the only one who cares about her._ With which Jimmy finally looked away, his smile growing immeasurably as he looked at his beautiful bride, leaning close to say something to her. His wife tipped her head back and laughed before tugging him toward the dance floor.

Oliver looked down to see Chloe giving him an inscrutable smile. "Well, Queen," she said. "Take me for a burger and fries?" she asked. By which she meant, _Friends, then?_

He grinned. "You got it, Sullivan. Just gotta send someone a quick text message." _Friends. For the moment_, he mentally agreed.

"Okay," she said lightly. "I'll get my purse."

Watching her go, and feeling hope for the first time since the day that damned wedding dress had shown up in her office, Oliver took his cell phone out of the inside of his suit jacket.

**hey. I need a favor.**

A second later the response came in.

**This better be good.**

He grinned before tapping out a quick reply, then slipping his phone back into the pocket and following after Chloe.

**It is. Call you later.**


	27. Chapter 26

**It's short and sweet, and believe it or not, it's the final chapter. I feel like I've given birth after being in labor for two years. -phew- Love you all, thank you for the tremendous response to this story, and goodbye, FFN! Be seein' ya! :)**

**Sincerest Love,  
>Blue<br>**

—26—

"All right, Queen. I've had enough of your ambiguous texts. What is this about?" Dinah Lance-Curry said, crossing her legs and narrowing her eyes at Oliver across her living room.

"And by that, she means, 'Hey, Ollie. How've you been? Haven't seen much of you lately.'" A.C. said, handing Oliver a cold beer and clinking his own bottle with it. "Cheers," he said pleasantly before going to sit down on the sofa beside his wife. Tango the Canary tweeted cheerfully in the background.

Oliver opened his mouth, but Dinah spoke first. "Don't do that, A.C. Don't humanize him. We're still mad at him."

"_You're_ still mad at him," A.C. chuckled. "Irrationally I might add. I happen to believe him and Chloe when they say it was mutual." He kissed her temple, amused when she jut clucked her tongue.

Oliver rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah…about that…that's why I'm here."

"See, Dinah," A.C. elbowed her smugly. "Called it."

She just raised an eyebrow at him stubbornly. Then she turned to look at Oliver. "So?" she said.

"Listen, Dinah…" Oliver said slowly. "I know you think I did something to screw this relationship up and you're pissed about it, but…you should know I love Chloe. And I know that I owe a lot of it to you for trying to push us together in the first place. I'm sorry you're upset with me, but…things with Chloe just…it's hard to explain what happened. But please, I'm asking friend-to-friends here for a little help."

Face softening a little because, after all, Oliver was every bit as much her friend as Chloe was, Dinah leaned forward. "What exactly is it you want from us?"

* * *

><p>"Seeing Oliver Queen again, are we?" Edward asked casually, noticing the addition Chloe had just made to her calendar.<p>

"Don't you raise your eyebrow at me with that tone, mister," Chloe said, dodging the question.

"I'm just curious is all. You've been spending a lot of time together ever since the Olsen wedding," Edward said.

"It's…strictly platonic, I swear," Chloe said with a little sigh, starting to open some of the mail on her desk.

"What's that?" Edward cupped a hand to his ear, "Is that a hint of frustration I hear? Is it possible you were hoping for _more_ than platonic relations?" He wiggled his eyebrows.

Chloe chuckled but then sighed again, rubbing her temples. "To be honest? I have no idea. When he showed up at the wedding, it was like he rode in as my white knight. I've never been so happy to see anyone in my life. And I realized just how much I've missed having him around. So I should be grateful, right? I mean…he and I are genuinely friendly again."

"Friendly, not friends?"

She chewed her lip. "Yeah. It's still…there's still this whole…"

"'We faked an engagement together' thing?" Edward supplied humorously.

"Yeah," she said dryly. "We've been keeping our distance for a reason. I just…I don't know. I don't know if there will ever be a way to make things normal between us because I don't think anything about 'us' has ever _been_ normal."

"And admit it, you want to be more than friends with him."

Chloe gave him a look that said it all.

Edward sighed and patted her shoulder. "These things have a way of working themselves out in the end." He glanced at her calendar. "And if they don't, by the way, I heard Harvey Dent is back in town," he teased.

Chloe glared. "Don't you have a job to do, or something?"

Chloe worked through the day, trying her best to banish thoughts of Oliver Queen from her mind. It had been a strange couple of weeks since Jimmy and Kara's wedding, spending time with him again and acting like there had never been anything romantic between them. The media had spotted them together a half dozen times now and everyone in Star City—Chloe included—was scratching their head, trying to figure out what it meant.

But it wasn't something she dared to complain about either. This friendly companionship and easy camaraderie…this was what they might have had if they'd given one another a chance when they first met. She doubted she and Oliver ever would have dated if the universe hadn't kept trying to force them onto each other, but they would have become friends eventually, she liked to think…once she had come to understand that he wasn't the cad she believed him to be, and after he figured out that she wasn't the ice queen he thought she was. It might have been nice.

But it was like having wine after whiskey, too, and it was difficult to tell her heart that this was how it should be, that Oliver had clearly come to his senses, as well, because he hadn't so much as dropped a single hint suggesting they be anything _other_ than friends.

_Well, not since the Kent wedding,_ she added mentally. _But that was ages ago. He's obviously cleared his head and figured it out._

"Nice to see you working so hard," a voice interrupted her thoughts and Chloe jumped.

"Dinah!" she greeted with a smile, pushing back her desk chair to come around the desk and embrace her friend. "You're alive!" she joked.

"I _know_," Dinah said, squeezing her tightly. "I'm still mad at you, though," she added sulkily.

Chloe snorted. "How do you even have _time_ to be mad at anyone? From what A.C. tells me, filming is taking up all of your free time. Have a seat," she tacked on casually, flicking her hand indicatively at the chair across from her desk.

Dinah planted herself in it and folded her arms judgmentally. "I multi-task," she said simply.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Dinah, I know you were really rooting for me and Ollie, and I'm sorry…really, truly sorry it didn't work out, but it just wasn't right in the end."

Dinah made a frustrated noise. "God, you two should be crowned king and queen of ambiguity. For the last time, will you _please_ explain to me what happened? And not with some hyperbolic 'It got out of control,' nonsense. I'm so sick of hearing that line."

Chloe chewed the inside of her cheek. After coming out to Edward, she'd found herself sorely tempted to come clean to all of her friends, but she also realized that it would hurt them all for the sake of clearing her own conscience, which wasn't fair. She knew they deserved the truth, but sometimes the best way to serve your penance was to suffer in silence, and that was what she'd decided to do. "I don't really have a good explanation, Dinah. I know it looked like everything was okay from the outside, but behind closed doors it wasn't. We had a lot of issues, and at first the passion carried us through them, but then they came to a head and we just couldn't handle it." There, that was completely honest.

"What kind of issues?"

_Damn it. _She shrugged. "I'd rather not talk about it, Dinah. Ollie and I have worked through it all and we're friends again, so I don't really see the point in dragging out old pain, okay?" she gave her friend a serious look, and Dinah's frustration melted away.

"If you say so," she said compassionately. "So tell me then, now that you two are friends again…have you considered the possibility?"

Chloe resisted an urge to groan. Could she not escape this conversation? "Well, of course I've considered it, Dinah. It's only natural. But I just don't think it's in the cards for us."

Dinah's shapely eyebrow arched significantly higher. "Oh?"

Chloe shrugged. "Don't get me wrong…I wish it could work. But I don't know…I think the timing for me and Ollie was just never right or something. It's not meant to happen. And he's moved on now, which is good. It would be stupid to try to repeat history."

"Uh huh," Dinah said, not convinced. "But just…tell me something…because I've been thinking a lot about the fact that I was majorly responsible for you two getting together. Not like I'm patting myself on the back or trying to give myself all the credit," she added quickly, "Just that I know I had a big hand in it, and I know what a wreck you were…" she searched Chloe's face in concern, "and I just feel a little guilty. I just need to know that you don't blame me for any of that," she finished with a soft plea, giving Chloe an earnest look.

"Oh, Dinah, never! You only ever wanted what was best for both of us because you love us so much. Yeah, you pushed us together but we made our own choices at the end of the day. And even knowing that it didn't work out in the end…I'd do the whole thing over again, given the chance," Chloe said, surprising herself as the words came out. It was true, though. She would absolutely do it all over again. Right down to the stupid fake engagement, if it was a choice between having never been with Oliver at all.

Dinah looked relieved, and Chloe knew there were a lot of wheels turning behind her eyes, which was always cause for concern. "I'm glad," Dinah said after a moment. "I think you both turned out better for it. You miss him, though, don't you?" she added.

Chloe smiled softly. "Well, yeah, sometimes. We were surprisingly good for each other in a lot of ways."

Dinah nodded. "Mmhmm." She paused thoughtfully before checking her phone for the time. "Well, I can't stay long, honestly, I just wanted to drop in on you. I've missed you!"

"Me, too, Dinah!" Chloe said, rising with Dinah for another quick hug goodbye.

"Are you free this Saturday?" Dinah asked.

"I think so, why?"

"Diana just mentioned she's coming to town, and A.C.'s busy, so I thought the three of us could have wine night."

Chloe grinned. "Sounds great."

* * *

><p><strong> Wear something cute. I ended up inviting a couple more people from work, so it's gonna be a little more cocktail-party-like.<strong>

Chloe frowned at the text from Dinah. She'd been looking forward to a night of unwinding in sweat pants. She seriously debated canceling and ordering in takeout instead.

** And no canceling on me!**

Chloe chuckled. Well there went that plan. Dutifully, she slipped on a backless gold dress she'd just brought home from work, not too over-the-top, but just dressy enough that she could probably get away with it. Plus it was comfortable. Take that, fancy party.

She ruffled her hair in the mirror and threw on a little makeup, and decided that was going to have to be good enough.

** Are you on your way?**

Chloe sighed before typing back.

** Yes dinah for goodness sake i'm coming**

She shook her head, rounding the corner to hail a cab from a busier street. It was a short trip to Dinah's house, but if she was going to be drinking wine with the girls all night, she wasn't going to want to drive home.

She looked around after paying the driver and stepping out of the cab, and a fond smile graced her lips. She hadn't been spending much time here in the last year. One of the last times she'd been to the Curry's apartment was when she stopped by to pick up Tango. More memorably, it had been another one of Dinah's ludicrous attempts to set her up with Oliver, and here on the sidewalk was where some low-life photographer had managed to get photos of them together. Arguably, everything would have blown over after the leaked photos from Dinah's wedding if it hadn't been for that next story about them, making it look like they'd been sneaking around together.

Shaking her head at the reminiscence (She distinctly recalled throwing a shoe at Oliver.) Chloe made her way into the building and upstairs to Dinah's floor.

She knocked on Dinah's door, and for someone who had been texting her regularly for the last hour, Chloe thought Dinah was taking an awfully long time to open the door.

When the door finally swung open, Dinah was acting very oddly. "You're here!" she exclaimed, relieved, switching the hand holding a glass of wine so she could more easily give Chloe a hug.

Chloe frowned. "Um, yeah. Like I said I'd be. About eight times in the past couple of days, by the way. You okay?" she asked, looking around. "Where are Diana and your friends?"

"Living room," Dinah said, quickly ushering Chloe inside and closing the door behind her.

"You're, um, dressed awfully formally, Dinah," Chloe said, noticing her friends sparkling evening wear.

"You look perfect. Don't worry about it. Everyone!" she announced, rounding the corner and bringing into view a sight that had Chloe stopping dead in her tracks, "She's here!"

Standing in the middle of Dinah's living room was not a group of women with wine glasses in hand. It was Oliver Queen, surrounded by a large group of…just about everyone he and Chloe knew, it seemed. She spotted Hal and Carol in the corner, chatting with Lois and Clark. Bruce and Diana were talking to Barbara and Dick, and Bart and Courtney were laughing on the couch, talking animatedly to Edward and Mia. Chloe spotted the General and Lucy conversing with her parents as well as the Queens and Mr. and Mrs. Kent. A.C. was talking to Victor and Katherine, but had looked up when Chloe walked in, which was what everyone else was slowly beginning to do. But Oliver, Oliver was looking straight at her, and didn't seem to notice that anyone else was around.

"Dinah," Chloe murmured, glancing at Dinah but keeping one eye on Oliver, her heart pounding. "What's going on?"

"He begged me to do it," Dinah said, placing a comforting hand on Chloe's back to keep her from getting any ideas about sprinting away to safety. "He _begged_ me to set you up one more time, that this…having everyone here, was the only way he knew for sure to win you back."

At the words, Chloe's attention snapped to Dinah fully, who was looking nervous, as though she were scared that after all, maybe she hadn't done the right thing.

The room had slowly gone quiet, and everyone was watching Oliver and Chloe to see what was going to happen next.

"_Do something_," Clark muttered to Oliver, leaning toward his friend's ear when he noticed that Oliver seemed to be hesitating.

It was the reminder Oliver needed. With clear intention, he crossed the room to Chloe and took her hands, and Dinah slipped away to join A.C.

"Chloe," he said quietly. "I still love you and I need to know something once and for all. Do you love me, too?"

"I…I…" she stammered, feeling tears forming in her eyes. "Well…yes, Oliver, but—"

He cut her off. "That was all I needed to hear." He gently reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. Then, he cleared his throat and spoke so everyone else could hear. "Chloe, we made a mistake last year. What everyone here doesn't know," he turned to look at them finally, stepping to Chloe's side but only dropping one of her hands, "is that our relationship was based on a lie."

She looked at him sharply, scared about where he was going with this. But then she realized something: Everyone in that room thought their relationship had started out with them _pretending not to be in one_.

"It started with a lie, and with hiding its true nature from the people we cared about and because of that mistake, I think you never understood where you stood with me. And I'll be honest, there were times when I didn't know either. I wish I could go back and make it right, but…" he swallowed. "You can't change the past. You can only move forward. For the past couple of months I've been trying to figure out how to make things right with you, and every scenario I came up with ended with me here, in front of you, asking you to take a leap of faith with me and do it right this time. So…" He reached into his pocket and pulled out his mother's ring—Laura and Moira clutched each other in anticipation as Oliver got down on one knee, still holding Chloe's hand. "So," he repeated, "I'm doing it right this time. I'm asking you, not in secret, but in front of everyone we know and love because I want _all of them_ to understand how completely in love with you I am…Chloe, will you marry me?" he asked her, and the room held its breath, all eyes turning from Oliver to Chloe.

…which didn't matter in the least, because Chloe had forgotten that any of them were there. Tears streaming down her face, Chloe found herself speechless and instead nodded her head, hand reaching up to cover her mouth as Oliver slipped his mother's ring back onto her finger where it belonged.

And, without waiting to be told or encouraged, Oliver immediately stood up and planted an earth-shattering kiss on her lips, which she eagerly returned, leaning on him as her knees seemed to melt beneath her. Oliver wrapped his arms tightly around her for support, and they both grinned, finally turning their heads to notice their friends and family cheering for them, happy to see Chloe and Oliver finally figure out what they'd known all along.

Lois and Diana were hugging each other, while Dinah was sobbing and repeatedly hitting A.C.'s arm, saying over and over again to him, "I TOLD YOU!" The Queens, the Kents, and the Sullivans were shaking hands and hugging and congratulating each other, and everyone else was rushing forward to congratulate Oliver and Chloe, the latter of which had leaned up to whisper in the former's ear, "Don't ever let me go again. Got it?"

Smirking at her, Oliver kissed her in reply. "What do you think? Whole truth and nothing but the truth from here on out?"

She pressed her lips together and her eyes danced with laughter. "Oh, I think we're entitled to one or two secrets," she whispered. "For instance," she leaned in closer to his ear, "I don't think anyone ever needs to know what happens behind closed doors," she said suggestively before graciously accepting a congratulatory hug from Katherine.

"What do you plan to tell them?" he asked.

She gave him a look. "That it's none of their goddamn business."


End file.
